


Nothing Softer Or More Flexible

by colazitron



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, well somewhat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 05:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13827921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: Even is suffering from writer's block. Given that he has to write and film a short film on love (Love! A subject he loves!) that's not ideal. He finds unlikely inspiration in an old essay from one Isak V.





	1. Isak - fall 2024

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I am in no way affiliated with the characters depicted herein or their creators. I made all of this up and am sharing it for fun.
> 
>  **A/N:** First of all I want to thank the most wonderful [kittpurrson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittpurrson) who betaed this for me and, along with [imminentinertia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imminentinertia), cheered me on through the arduous months, weeks, and then frantic hours of my writing process. What would I ever do without you?! (Let's not find out.)
> 
> Second of all, the art for this fic has been made by the lovely [koedder-du](https://koedder-du.tumblr.com/), who truly showed the patience of a saint in working with me lol. Thank you so, so much!
> 
> This whole little AU scenario is, btw, inspired by the fact that someone has actually asked kittpurrson if they could turn one of her pieces into a short film for a class and when I learned of that fact my entire brain lit up with the words "MEET CUTE" so. Here we are. I hope you enjoy the ride!

**FALL 2024**

 

*******

 

“Will you just hold still? You're worse than a child,” Isak says, buttoning Even's shirt. Even had fiddled with the small white buttons for three minutes before making a distressed noise and holding up his shaking hands to Isak with wide eyes.

“You've screened films before,” Isak says quietly, deftly doing up the last button and smoothing his hands down Even's chest in the hopes it'll calm him down. “Why is this one so different?”

“It's a feature film,” Even says, swallowing heavily and then flicking his eyes down to catch Isak's gaze. “This could be… it. You know?”

Isak hums and runs his hands up and down Even's chest a few more times.

“It could,” he says. “It's a very good film. It'd deserve a wide release.”

Even makes another distressed little noise.

“But if it's not it,” Isak goes on, as though Even hasn't made any noise at all, still calmly holding his gaze, “then that's fine too.”

Even's gaze flicks away and Isak lifts a hand to touch to his jaw.

“Baby. Baby, listen to me,” he insists, tilting his head to catch Even's gaze again. He takes a few seconds just to look at him, thumb rubbing over the line of his jaw before he speaks again.

“You're brilliant at what you do, whether this is the one or not. There are plenty of award-winning directors who weren't anywhere near where you are at twenty-seven. Everyone's journey is different, isn't that what you always say?”

Even rolls his eyes at him, because he's not fond of Isak using his own words against him. It's much harder to argue with himself, after all.

“I just don't want to have to see the reaction,” Even whines. “Can't I just stay here and then check what people thought online?”

Isak tamps down the urge to laugh and puts on a stern face instead.

“Hey, remember how you asked me to marry you yesterday and I said I would?” he asks, watching the way Even's entire posture melts into delight, his hands coming up to cup Isak's own face as he smiles at him.

“I do, yeah,” Even says, eyes twinkling like the idiot who loves puns that he is.

“Well, I'm not marrying a coward,” Isak says. “So put on your shoes, and call a taxi.”

Even stares at him for a moment and then bursts into a laugh that finally breaks the tension, leaning forward to press their smiling mouths together until they get themselves under control enough for a brief, sweet kiss.

“I can't chance that, can I?” Even says when he pulls back again, voice and face so unbearably fond that Isak wants to tell him to fuck the screening after all, they'll just stay here in this room, just the two of them. Who needs the rest of the world, really?

Instead, he gives him a little push.

“Go. I'll be right out.”

So Even goes, grabbing his phone and his jacket on the way out, and Isak slips on his trousers and dress shirt quickly to the sound of Even calling a taxi in the other room. Isak holds Even's hand on the drive over, rubbing his thumb over the back of his palm and babbling on about his research in order to distract Even. Before they go in to the screening, he holds him back for a moment.

“Hey,” he says, unable as ever to do anything but smile under Even's undivided attention. “I'm proud of you.”

Even smiles back and leans in to nuzzles their noses together briefly.

“I'm proud of me too,” he says.

Isak laughs quietly and gives him another kiss.

“You should be. Now let's go see your movie.”

They slip into the already darkening room and quickly find their seats in the front row, Isak reaching for Even's hand again, with absolutely no intention of letting go before the lights come back up. Even never speaks before his screenings, doesn't want to make himself do it, and doesn't want to take any amount of focus off the actual film.

Isak's seen it before, but it's something entirely different here, on the big screen, with hundreds of people behind him all gasping, laughing, even crying at all the appropriate moments. Isak can even hear whoever is sat behind him give an impressed hum at the dolly zoom Even has finally found an excuse to use. Beside him, Even relaxes more and more the longer the movie plays without anyone getting up to leave or booing or in any other way indicating that they don't like it.

The entire room stays silent throughout the credits, which has Isak grinning to himself and squeezing Even's hand, and when the lights come back on he can't help but shoot out of his seat, clapping wildly and beaming down at Even.

Even in turn looks up at him a little helplessly as the rest of the room joins Isak in his standing ovation, laughing as though he's not sure what to do.

Isak reaches for his shoulder and pulls him up, giving him a gentle shove towards the stage.

“Go!” he says, loudly, so Even can hear him over the applause, and then watches him stumble over his own feet on the way up the stage.

He can't believe he's going to marry that ridiculous man.


	2. What Is Love?

**What Is Love?**

by Isak V.

 

What is love? According to Amalie Jakobson not something me and my generation know or understand a whole lot about. Her article “Every Man Is An Island” from the 20th of November 2017 describes Oslo’s youth as ‘fuelled by instant pleasure and alcohol’ and ‘disinterested in genuine human connection’. She laments that ‘today's hook-up culture’ has created an atmosphere where people float from one fling to the next like a bee sampling flowers while never actually stopping to smell the roses.

Stopping to smell the roses, meanwhile, is what life (and love) is all about, according to Ms. Jakobson. Love, she seems to believe, is what happens when two people make each other a solemn promise to stick together through thick and thin (till death do them part, ideally), and then actually follow through on it, adding building blocks to the cookie-cutter-perfect life as though from a checklist. A few kids by twenty-five, a house by thirty-five, a retirement plan by fifty and a couple dogs to keep us company as we age gracefully and occasionally watch our grandchildren so our children can work on their house/retirement plan/dogs. All of it, of course, side by side. I'll agree it sounds lovely on paper, though also like what my best friend and I swore to do when we sliced our palms open behind my mother's house at age seven. We're still going strong, but for reference - I don't think the bleeding had anything to do with it, or that it's what Ms. Jakobson has in mind.

If I am to take Ms. Jakobson's word for it though, I don't know what love is (marriage, 1.98 children, and a dog), and if I knew what was good for me (which I don't, because I am but a simple youth) I'd stop what I'm doing (drinking, taking drugs, indulging a soulless quest to lose myself in the arms of other people) and instead put all of my energy into finding The One, my life partner, the answer to my love's duet.

Let us for a moment indulge the thought that Ms. Jakobson is right about her idea of love and look at the reasons she gives for why kids these days don't go looking for it anymore.

The biggest reason, according to Ms. Jakobson, is the so-called "hook-up culture". Kids drink well below the age of eighteen, and alcohol enables all sorts of bad decisions. Add peer pressure derived from pop media that posit sex and all sex-related activities as the be-all-end-all of the teenage experience and you've got the perfect recipe for kids who stumble through things they're way too young to understand or even just appreciate.

I won't lie - kids _do_ drink well below the age of eighteen, and alcohol _does_ encourage stupid decisions. There are probably a lot of kids who regret the things they do under the influence, be it sex or something else. What seems to be implied here though is that no one has ever hooked up or had sex sober and regretted it afterwards. As though no one under the age of eighteen has sex without the influence of alcohol. So let me let you in on a little secret - it does happen. Kids have sex sober all the time. And what's more is that contrary to the griping about 'today's hook-up culture', the age at which teenagers in Norway first have sex has been relatively stable over the last twenty years. (It's about sixteen and a half, by the way.)

The second main reason Ms. Jakobson gives for the lack of True Love in my generation is a general fear of commitment. Long term relationships take perseverance, and my age group just doesn't have what it takes to stick it out. Hook-ups are easier, and the ready availability of them makes the choice particularly easy. Furthermore, in order to be fully committed to someone, you have to know them and yourself, you have to know whether you're compatible. But since all we do is chase the newest trends instead of turning our attention inwards and getting to know ourselves, to the point where we're confused about what gender we are or love, Ms. Jakobson posits that we've lost that particular race before we even start.

This of course hinges on the idea that commitment does mean perseverance. That staying with someone who hasn't made you happy for a long time, who you don't make happy, just because you once said you would, is the pinnacle of love. That it's better to suffer alongside one another than to call it quits. Further it requires knowledge of oneself to be finite - for people to grow into a person and then at some point stop. If commitment is to be made once, between two people who know themselves and each other, and then kept for the rest of their lives, those two people must stay the exact same people in order to remain compatible. I believe I'm not the only one who believes that personal growth does not halt at sixteen.

(As for Ms. Jakobson's casual transphobia - I suggest if you agree with her that you read a book, or at least a blogpost, about gender identity and queer sexualities. Most of us aren't that confused about ourselves - we're confused about how we're supposed to fit into the narrow boxes you expect us to squeeze into. Sincerely, your local gay.)

Despite the fact that I think all of Ms. Jakobson's reasoning is wrong, I'm going to let you in on another secret - I agree with her overall assessment. A lot of kids these days _don't_ know what love is, or how to go about having a stable relationship, myself included.

And here's why: we learn how to love, how to commit, how to depend on each other through example. And most of us have shitty examples. According to 2015 data, 42% of marriages in Norway end in divorce. Even for those of us who don't have divorced parents, that means we probably know (of) at least one couple who've gotten divorced. Is that because earlier generations know so well what it means to stick together "through thick and thin"? Hardly. How are we supposed to learn love from people who tell us it only comes in one form? How are we supposed to learn commitment from people who flirt with people other than their partners right before our eyes? How are we supposed to learn conflict resolution from people who let silence fester between them until the only solution left is for one of them to leave, just because they made a promise to stay together till death do them part, and this is the next best thing?

So even though Ms. Jakobson would like to think I know nothing about love, given the fact that 42% of her generation don't seem to either, let me suggest the following: love is not a state or an emotion, it's an action. To love means to decide you want to be with someone every day you are with them, it means to be willing to keep getting to know them and to keep letting them know you. It means you are willing to share your life with them. The idea that you promise to love once, and then love just follows is a fallacy. Love takes work. Commitment takes work.

Maybe my generation isn't willing to put in that work, but Ms. Jakobson's has already proven it isn't. Maybe one day we will find a way to love one another without demanding we stop growing as people, without believing that once we've made our choice of a partner we need to do everything in our power to keep this one relationship going. Maybe. But we won't do it so long as we let people like Ms. Jakobson dictate what we're supposed to want. So I won't be holding my breath for it.

 

 


	3. Even - spring 2020

**SPRING 2020**

 

*******

 

"You okay?" Mikael asks when Even throws himself down onto his bed, stuffing his face into Mikael's pillow and groaning louder and longer than probably necessary. Even doesn't claim not to like attention.

"No," Even says, muffled by the pillow, and indulges in another few moments of shutting the world out before he shifts so he can look over at Mikael sat at his desk, large headphones around his neck. From the looks of it, he's editing, but he's also looking over at Even with that amused frown on his face that Even has come to know very well over the last few years of their friendship.

"What troubles you, light of my life," Mikael drawls, dry as anything.

"I have absolutely no inspiration. None. Not the tiniest spark," Even says, adding a sigh for good measure.

"For what project?"

"The short film."

There's a brief pause in which Mikael just stares at him.

"The one about love?" he then asks.

Even nods.

"Are you kidding me? You're telling me you're all out of ideas about _love_?!" Mikael says, a disbelieving grin growing on his face. "Even, you can rant about love before you're even awake in the mornings."

"I know!" Even wails. "But I have absolutely no idea what to do!"

"Just do literally anything!"

"But I can't! It has to be brilliant! I've talked about love so much in that class, you have no idea! I'm the guy who's always talking about it, and I've been vocally excited about this assignment literally all semester! I can't just turn in any old thing!"

"You do realise you're blocking yourself with that kind of perfectionism, right?" Mikael says.

"Yeah, of course I do. But what do I do about it?"

"You stop stressing. For fuck's sake, Even, just pick one of the hundred times you've talked about love and turn it into a little film. Pick the time you made Mutta cry when you talked about choice and vulnerability!" Mikael says, rolling his eyes.

"That was a good one," Even allows. "But I just feel like I want to do more, you know? I don't want to do a preachy video essay about how epic love is."

"So do one about how shit it is instead," Mikael suggests.

Even raises one eyebrow at him and waits for him to add something. When he doesn't, Even says, "But it's not."

"Yeah, well, if you want to do something you wouldn't usually do, then do the opposite of what you're thinking. Challenge yourself. Explore the sides of love that suck," Mikael says.

"You're no help," Even says, and gets back up from Mikael's bed to wander back to his own room.

"You're welcome!" Mikael shouts after him, because he knows Even's strategic retreat when he sees it.

Thing is, Mikael may be onto something with that idea. Even does tend to think of things – love especially – a bit black and white. He knows that. He's trying his best to allow for shades of grey, but some things are so blindingly black or white he doesn't really see how there could be room for anything else. And love just happens to be one of those things for him. How could anyone seriously suggest that love is bad? The only way Even can imagine someone believing that is to misunderstand what it means.

The problem with that is that if Even sits down with a pen and paper to write something negative about love – maybe something about how it can turn toxic or how people mistake all sorts of other things for love and end up chasing the wrong thing – he draws a blank. And it's not even for lack of personal experience. He's had one major love in this life so far – other than film – and though the story starts like a fairytale, it certainly doesn't end like one.

Sonja was the prettiest, wittiest, warmest girl he'd ever met and when she agreed to be his girlfriend at fifteen Even was sure this was it. They were the lucky ones. The exception to the "school time sweethearts never last" rule. And they did last for a good long while. They lasted for the next five years, all the way through upper secondary, Even's second go at third year and then another year after that. She stuck by his side through all his ups and downs, and given his bipolar disorder that particular roller coaster ride could get bumpy as fuck. But then she thought his pansexuality was a symptom of his illness for too long, and he mistook her frantic grasping at straws to help him with it for an attempt at controlling him.

Still, no matter how bad it was towards the end – it wasn't the love that was wrong. It was all the things that got in the way of it, that they started to prioritise over it, for one reason or another.

So how is he supposed to write something about how love sucks?

Even sighs and puts his pen back down, twirling in his desk chair.

Maybe he can find some alternate source of inspiration. Something to work off of. A breakup song or Romantic poetry or a short story or something. He's not quite sure how he's going to go about finding something like that short of revisiting his Taylor Swift playlist, but that's what google is for, right? _Google, why does love suck?_ Turns out, there's a buzzfeed article about 16 Scientific Reasons Love Is Bad For You, but that's not exactly what Even is after. He doesn't really care what the science says, he wants to know what it feels like.

With a sigh, Even plugs in his own headphones, does pull up that Taylor Swift playlist, and gets to googling.

Over the course of the next two hours, he bookmarks about three poems, reads that buzzfeed article and bookmarks that too, and skims through a number of blog entries he doesn't care to know or remember. Too many. Way too many men who think women owe them dates and sex because they held the door once and way too many women who think men should buy them diamond rings after six months of dating or gtfo.

He stretches out the crick in his back from the way staring at his laptop always makes him slouch over, and then gets up to get a glass of water from the kitchen. When he sits back down, he switches back to the google tab and adds _+gay_ to his current query.

He scrolls past the first few results, but his eyes catch on _sincerely, your local gay._ Grinning, he clicks the link, and finds himself on a blog that apparently tries to 'amplify young voices'. The text he's confronted with is called "What Is Love?" and whoever Isak V. is, he's made Even hum _baby, don't hurt me_ under his breath despite Taylor singing about her wildest dreams in his ear. So that's off to a great start, and since Isak V. appears to be a local gay, Even decides to read the whole thing. It doesn't seem to be long, at any rate.

Best Even can judge, this was probably a homework assignment. Even's not quite sure what stance Isak V. is taking, other than that the author of the article they've been assigned to critique is a moron. The entry is dated December 11th 2017, so Even supposes Isak V. could have changed (or at least made up) his mind since then, but the text is engaging nonetheless and Even finds himself nodding at _The idea that you promise to love once and then love just follows is a fallacy._ That, Isak V. in 2017 and Even in the now agree on.

There's something about this text. It's simple, but it's also witty and Isak V. doesn't seem entirely fond of the general monogamous relationship model, but his last few paragraphs, despite saying he won't hold his breath and wait to be taught how to love properly, makes it feel like he believes it's possible. Maybe he even wants it.

Or maybe Even's projecting, but projecting is only a step away from inspiration, so Even copies the text into an empty document and then prints it out to read over again with a couple of text markers in hand. There's a contact form on the website, so if Even can find a way to turn this into a five minute short film, then he's going to send them an email and see if he can't get Isak V.'s permission to use his words. _Help me, Isak V. whoever the fuck you are. You're my only ho._

 

It takes almost a week for Even to get a response – long enough for him to assume that he would be better off giving up on the whole idea and started to spiral back into an 'everything I can ever come up with is shit' kind of writer's block and Even can't help a tiny spark of annoyance that getting a response could have taken so long. He can't imagine they're inundated with requests like his...

 

> _Dear Even,_
> 
> _Isak has agreed to let you use his text for your short film assignment. If you have any more questions for him, you can reach him at isakyaki@gmail.com. All the best with your work!_
> 
> _Lars_

 

But then, in retrospect, since he got an agreement, it was worth the wait. Especially because he already started writing a script, determined to track Isak V. down some other way if this didn't work out. Even can be both ridiculous and stubborn when he's got an idea lodged in his mind, and he's been known to spend an absurd amount of time scrolling through social media with very little to go on (and, honestly, very little to show for it in the end).

Plan B would have been riding the line of plagiarism and inspiration hard enough his professor would mistake his confidence for originality.

Even writes a quick thank-you to Lars – _Dear Lars, thank you for getting permission on my behalf and passing along Isak's email address; best, Even_ – and then thinks that he should probably thank the actual person who changed the fate of his grade as well. It would just be rude if he didn't, right? And maybe Isak has some questions he would like answered too.

 

> _Dear Isak,_
> 
> _Lars told me you were okay with me using your text ("What is Love", from 2017) for my project at film school and gave me this email address to contact you with further questions. I don't have any of those at the moment, but I just wanted to thank you in person for allowing me to use your words._
> 
> _Actually, I do have a question – I'm thinking of doing a sort of "remix" of the text, so the message my film ends up having might be different from the one your text has. It'll be "based on" your text of course, all opinions mine etc – but is that alright with you?_
> 
> _If you have any questions, don't hesitate to send me an email either!_
> 
> _Thanks again,_
> 
> _Even_

 

> _Dear Even,_
> 
> _Yeah, that's chill. I don't have any questions right now. Good luck with your project!_
> 
> _Isak_

 

Isak's response to the fifth draft of Even's email comes so quickly Even has to think he either gets his emails sent to his phone and has an alert for them, or was just randomly checking his email at precisely the right moment. Either way it makes Even feel like he's supposed to say something back, like they're having a conversation, but there's nothing really in Isak's email that warrants any kind of reply. If he just sends another quick thank you, that's not too weird, right?

 

> _Thanks,_
> 
> _Even_

 

Even's barely checked to see there's nothing interesting lurking in his spam folder when he's got another email from Isak.

 

> _You're welcome,_
> 
> _Isak_

 

Snorting a laugh to himself, Even fires off a quick reply.

 

> _Are you bored or procrastinating?_
> 
> _Even_

 

Isak's answer to this is just as quick as before.

 

> _Both. You?_
> 
> _Isak_

 

> _I was actually about to start writing the script...._
> 
> _Even_

 

> _Then I'm not gonna keep you. I need you to actually do this now; how else am I going to brag to all my friends about how my eighteen-year-old self managed to ramble about emotions in a way that inspired actual art? (You better be good.)_
> 
> _Isak_

 

Even does the math quickly and wonders briefly what Isak is doing now that he must be about 20, 21 years old. Other than procrastinating from whatever it is he should be doing.

 

> _I see, so I'm doing this for you now, not my grade?_
> 
> _Even_

 

> _Obviously. Now go write, minion. I'm not going to reply to another email._
> 
> _Isak_

 

> _That's harsh._
> 
> _Even_

 

> _Wow, for real?_

 

> _Good luck not procrastinating!_

 

Even fucks around online for another ten minutes before he decides to take his own advice and try his luck at not procrastinating, because Isak obviously meant it. So he turns off his computer, silences his phone and puts it face down on his bedside table, before sitting back down at his desk, his colour-coded and annotated version of Isak's text spread out over one side of the table, and a blank piece of paper in front of him.

Right then. Ideas first.

Over the years Even has found a method to scripting that works for him. He's maybe not the most organised person – his drafts are usually on unruled paper, his handwriting rather messy, crossed out words and arrows and colour-coding all over – but it works for him. And so far he's the only person it has to work for, so that's alright. He's just glad he's found a way to organise himself at all. He's lost count of how many ideas he's lost or given up on just because he couldn't put them together. So now he does preliminary research first, writes out all the ideas that pop into his head, orders them, and goes back for some more research before going in to write the actual script. Anything before actual scripting he does by hand as well. It's just easier to let his ideas roam free over a page like that. He can't type them out in neat little lines on his laptop. There's more freedom here on a blank piece of paper.

By the time Mikael comes to drag him out of his room to go get some kebab at the place around the corner, there's a crick in Even's neck from being so hunched over all the time. On the plus side, he has a fairly good idea about what he wants to do. It's good timing anyway, because in  every creative project there comes a point - or several - where Even needs to just stop. If he doesn’t, he runs the risk of losing himself in the details and dipping over into frustration. He needs to give his ideas a night to breathe – or maybe his brain needs time to recharge – but either way, once he's got a fairly good idea of what he wants to do, he generally needs to take a breather before he goes back in to try and make some sense of all that brainstorming he did.

The air outside feels surprisingly fresh, and Even makes a mental note to air out his room when he gets back. He supposes he has been cooped up inside since yesterday early afternoon, and he hasn't exactly moved much except around the apartment either. Even always forgets how good just being outside feels, but now he takes a deep breath and exhales on a satisfied sigh.

Mikael laughs.

"You act like you've been locked up for the last thirty years."

Even grins and stretches his arms up towards the sky, feeling his muscles and bones shift in a satisfyingly refreshing and relaxing way.

"It's felt like it," he says.

"Looked like you were doing fine with your project now though. So when you were shouting earlier, that was good then?" Mikael asks, setting them off down the street, the route to their favourite nearby kebab place so familiar they could probably both walk it in their sleep. Or backwards.

Not that Even's tried, or anything, but if he did, then Mikael would have almost choked on his own spit laughing from trying to steer Even around other people just trying to make their way down a pavement unharassed. (If he had, it would have been that week when Mikael broke up with his girlfriend of the previous two years, the one he'd once wistfully mused about marrying some day before their relationship had soured.)

Even waggles his eyebrows suggestively and then nods.

"Yeah, I got a response. The guy who wrote that text I told you about said I could use it."

Mikael grins back.

"Oh great! So you've been brainstorming?"

Even hums, mind drifting back on his pages of notes and notes on his notes, all spread out across his desk (and bed) (and possibly floor).

He sighs.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure about what I want to do, now I just need to make it coherent somehow."

"That's never been your strong suit," Mikael teases.

"Putin and Captain America were coherent, all right? You just didn't see it," Even insists, pointing a stern finger at his best friend, who only deigns to laugh at him for it.

"Yeah, alright, coherency was the smallest of the issues that project of yours had…"

Even laughs along but then shakes his head like he's disappointed and sighs deeply.

"You're incredibly unsupportive, you know that? I thought it was in the best friend rules somewhere that you're supposed to make me feel better about my endeavours and support them so I can stretch my creative wings and find my voice or whatever."

Mikael snorts a laugh and ducks into his coat against a particularly chilly breeze.

"Even, love of my life, I will gladly support you when you're doing something halfway productive,” he says, laughing when it makes Even roll his eyes. “Half. That's all I ask."

Even sighs exasperatedly but can't help grinning back. What are student days for if not for giving each idea a good go to see if it's at all feasible? It's how Even learns! Trial and error has always been his approach to… life in general.

"I was doing something halfway productive! I learned that stop motion is absolutely impossible and anyone who has the patience to do it right is either a saint or has sold their soul to the devil."

"No in between, huh," Mikael grins.

Even grins back and vehemently shakes his head.

"No, absolutely none. I mean, I know people always say that it's a lot of work, but it's so much work! I'm still exhausted!"

"That was, like, five years ago,” Mikael says, rolling his eyes.

Even widens his eyes significantly and nods.

"Yeah. That's how much work it is. It still haunts me."

Mikael snorts another laugh.

"You're a dramatic asshole, you know that?"

"Yeah, you tell me at least once a week," Even says with a grin.

Mikael nods to himself.

"Good. Remind me to keep that up," he says. When Even gives him a shove to the shoulder for it, he only laughs a little.

"I'll just be my usual dramatic asshole self,” Even drawls.

Mikael grins.

"That'll work,” he says and bumps their shoulders together playfully. “Now, lay it on me. What are you planning?”

“Well, since you asked,” Even starts with a grin, and his explanation of which parts of the text stood out to him especially – he kind of wants to title the whole thing “sincerely, your local gay”; can he do that? – and how he wants to put it all together takes them all the way through ordering and waiting for their kebabs. It's only once they're back outside, opting for takeaway to eat at home, that Mikael pipes back up with something more than “uh-huh” or “okay” or even just an acknowledging hum.

“So, it's okay for you to do something transformative like that? It doesn't have to be a completely original screenplay?” he asks.

Even feels his entire body slump with the sinking feeling in his gut.

“Shit, did you not ask?” Mikael asks and then groans. “Even, you fucking idiot.”

“I know, I know, I need to learn not to get so ahead of myself,” he whines. “Fuck.”

“Well, just ask now, I guess,” Mikael says, clearly trying to hold back laughter.

Even groans.

“God, what do I do of she says no?”

“Then you're going to have to come up with something yourself, I suppose,” Mikael says with a shrug. “I'm sure there's some epic-dramatic romance somewhere in that brain of yours. You'll think of something.”

Even groans a second time.

“I like this idea better though.”

“Well, then you better hope she'll go for it,” Mikael says and pats Even on the arm consolingly.

 

> _Dear Jorunn,_
> 
> _I have a question about the short film project for “Translating Emotion: How To Make Your Audience Feel Things”. I found an essay online and would like to use that as my base for the film. Would a transformative work like that be alright? I'm attaching the original essay and my outline._
> 
> _Best,_
> 
> _Even_

 

> _Even,_
> 
> _Yes, that looks fine._
> 
> _Jorunn_


	4. Isak - fall 2022

**FALL 2022**

 

*******

 

This is the first time that Isak has seen Even properly in six days, and he has to try really hard not to frown at the way Even's holding his head in both hands, staring down at the table.

“I'm going to quit,” Even says quietly.

“You're not going to quit,” Isak says automatically.

But then Even lifts his head and looks at him, eyes soft and shallow and more exhausted than Isak's ever seen him outside an episode.

“I can't keep...” Even says and trails off into a heavy sigh. “It's too much.”

Isak gets up from his chair and rounds the table, sitting down in the chair next to Even, scooting close enough so he can carefully take one of Even's hands and let Even rest his head sideways on his shoulder. Isak tilts his own head to the side to rest it against Even's in return. For a few moments they just sit there, soaking in each other's presence.

“What's going on, baby?” Isak asks finally.

“They keep asking for re-writes,” Even says. “Apparently it's all too-- harsh, or something. But if I take the bluntness out then the series loses what it's about, you know? And I can't focus on that when I'm meant to be directing. We're so far behind schedule it's seriously not even a little bit funny anymore.”

Isak hums and squeezes Even's hand.

“And Julie? Isn't she meant to deal with the network?”

“She is. She does! But she has a lot of other stuff to do as well, you know? They've not given us nearly enough people. Or budget,” Even says. “We always knew we'd have to work ourselves halfway into the ground to get this on air, but this is just...”

He breaks off and from the way he goes still, Isak gets the sickening feeling that he's about to cry. He twists in his chair to wrap both arms around Even's shaking shoulders, press him close to his chest and let Even hide his face there.

“It's okay,” Isak whispers, holding Even close with one hand, and running the other along his spine. “You're okay, baby.”

“I can't do this, Isak. I just-- I can't.”

He hiccoughs a sob and interrupts himself for a moment before he takes a staggering breath, and pushes closer to Isak somehow.

“I know Julie's counting on me, but between all this and fucking Silje who won't take a hint, I just--”

“Silje's still bothering you?” Isak asks, jaw ticking with the way his teeth clench at the thought of Even's lead actress. She's an unfortunate case who's convinced she just needs to remind Even what he's missing out on so he'll return back to the straight side – her side – where he belongs.

At first, Isak found it hilarious, because practically everyone on Julie and Even's team had already met Isak and commented on how Even lit up like a puppy every time Isak came to pick him up after a meeting or to meet him for lunch on set. But Silje somehow managed to miss all the signs entirely and when she'd thrown herself at Even in a fit of drunken courage at a cast and crew party, she'd seemed genuinely shocked when Even had told her Isak was his boyfriend.

Thus far, thus absurd and funny.

The problem is that she still won't leave him alone afterwards. She waits for him by his trailer and follows him around on set, even when she isn't needed. It disrupts the work, and, worse, it stresses Even out. Not because he thinks that Isak would for a second think he'd give in to the ridiculous temptation (though in Isak's humble and completely gay opinion, if Even wanted to cheat on him with a woman, he could do better than Silje), but because he doesn't like having to reject someone over and over. Isak assumes Silje figured that out and is just trying to wear him down.

At this point Isak's pretty sure that Silje's been warned about her behaviour by everyone from the light guys to Julie, stopping just shy of the actual head of NRK. He's pretty sure if it weren't too late to recast her, she would have been fired a while ago.

Apparently, though, she can neither take a hint, nor a direct order. And Isak doesn't think it's funny anymore.

“I'll deal with Silje,” he says, almost surprised by how dark his own voice sounds.

He's going to ask Mutta to explain the legal situation to him, and then he's going to visit Even on set and read her her rights. Or not-rights, as it were. It does pay to have a lawyer-in-the-making in their circle of friends.

“No, Isak, it should be me who deals with her,” Even protests, coming up from his hiding spot by Isak's collarbone, cheeks wet, and eyes puffy.

The sight tugs at Isak's heart-strings something fierce. Even doesn't cry much. He's an emotional person, but he really only cries when he's very hurt, or very exhausted.

“You've tried that. Julie has tried that. I'm sure Ole and Marius and Emilie and Katrine have tried that,” Isak says. “And you all still need to work with her. I don't ever have to see her terrible face again if I don't want to. So I'm going to come see you, and I'm going to explain to her in no uncertain terms that she is to leave my boyfriend to do his fucking job, or I will personally see to it that she never acts again.”

Even stares at him with wide eyes, and Isak can practically watch the conflict play out in his mind. 'No, Isak, you can't be so hard on people' versus 'thank you, please, get rid of her'. Isak already knows which side is going to win, and finally, Even's shoulders slump and he nods a little.

“Thank you,” he says. “I don't know how to do this alone.”

“Good thing you're not alone then,” Isak says and leans in to touch their foreheads together. “We'll talk to Julie too, yeah? See if you can't develop a strategy to get NRK's propriety police off your back, or whatever they are. They knew what they were getting when they commissioned your series.”

Even nods a little and then reaches for Isak's hands, lacing their fingers together while they just breathe together.

“I've missed you,” Even finally says. “I came home earlier and the flat was empty and I couldn't remember the last time we sat down and actually had a meal together.”

Isak sighs, and tries to think back. Definitely not this week. Last week? Oh no, it was when they went out to dinner at that sushi place.

“Sushi,” Isak says. “I think that was the last time.”

Even has either been shooting late or early, and Isak has been holed up in either the library or the labs over this damn research paper, so they haven't had lunch together recently either.

“That's too long,” Even says, a hint of a whine in his voice.

Isak can't help but smile at the petulance even as he nods.

“It is too long.”

“I love working on _elefanter_ , but I need to make a few changes or else I really am going to have to quit,” Even says.

Isak lets that sit for a bit and chews on his lip as he considers the full weight behind that statement.

“Are you feeling… off?” he asks.

Even huffs an aggravated sigh.

“No, I don't think so. Just… maybe more exhausted than usually? It's hard to tell why I'm sleeping so irregularly with all this going on,” he says and then shakes his head, leaning back. “I hate this.”

“I know,” Isak says, and doesn't try to lean in for the kiss he really wants to give Even because he knows that makes him feel patronised, like Isak's trying to soothe a hurt he can't kiss better.

Even looks past Isak's shoulder with a stubborn frown on his shoulder for a moment, and then turns back to him, trying on a shaky smile.

“Tell me something nice?” he asks, letting go of one of Isak's hands to reach up and wipe the tacky rests of the tear tracks off his face.

“I think I've worked out where I went wrong with my data analysis,” Isak says, watching Even's smile grow firmer. “And Jan asked Mamma to move in.”

“What?” Even says, joy suddenly blooming on his face.

Isak answers it with a smile of his own.

“Yeah, they're doing really well, apparently,” he says. “Mamma says they're talking about selling the house and finding a flat together somewhere in the centre.”

“That's amazing. Jan is great,” Even says, smile softening again, but the exhaustion on his face seems softened too. “I'm glad she's happy.”

“Yeah, me too,” Isak says. Jan has been good for Mamma and without wanting to be disrespectful, it does feel like at that age, commitment really means that you're committed. Jan has accepted everything about mamma and Isak with the kind of grace that made it obvious that he didn't think there was anything in particular to accept about them at all.

“We'll have to go visit after they've moved,” Even says.

Isak nods slowly.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But all in good time.”

Even smiles at him tiredly, eyelashes sweeping up and down slowly.

“How about for now we just go to sleep?”

“Sleep sounds good,” Even says, and lets Isak pull him up from the chair in lead him through to their bedroom.


	5. The Girl Who Wouldn't Hold Her Breath

**THE GIRL WHO WOULDN'T HOLD HER BREATH**

**by Even Bech N æsheim**

  


**INT. – KITCHEN – MORNING**

NOORA, in a t-shirt long enough that we don't know what she's wearing underneath, is at the stove, scrambling eggs. EVA, in a t-shirt and comfortable underwear, leans in to kiss her on the cheek in passing, then grabs the electric kettle to make them both some tea.  


**EVA (VO):**

What is love? Not something me or my generation know a whole lot about.  


EVA stirs some honey into one of the cups of tea, then sets them aside and hops up onto the counter, crossing her legs at the ankles and watching Noora.

 

**EVA (VO, Cont’d):**

Today's hook-up culture has created an atmosphere where people float from one fling to the next like a bee sampling flowers while never actually stopping to smell the roses.

 

NOORA finishes and plates the eggs, EVA carries the tea over to the table. They sit around a corner of the table, their feet tangled up underneath the table as they eat and talk to each other quietly.

 

**EVA (VO, Cont’d):**

What happens when two people make each other a promise to stick together through thick and thin, adding building blocks to the cookie cutter perfect life as though from a checklist?

 

NOORA leans over to sort a strand of EVA’S hair out and EVA turns to hold her hand and press a kiss to the palm of it. NOORA smiles and then they move in and kiss each other on the mouth. EVA brushes her thumb over NOORA’s cheek and says “I love you”.

 

**EVA (VO, Cont’d):**

I don't know what love is. If I knew what was good for me, I'd stop what I'm doing.

  


**INT. – A LIVING ROOM – EVENING**

A GROUP of people, EVA, NOORA, and  their FRIENDS, sit together, drinking wine, and playing a boardgame. There are more people than players, but some people seem to be playing in teams. A few people have glasses of wine in their hands.

 

**EVA (VO):**

I won't lie, alcohol does encourage stupid decisions.

 

NOORA rolls a dice, a few people cheer, someone's face visibly falls. EVA cheers the loudest and presses a smacking kiss to NOORA’s cheek.

  


**INT. – THE SAME LIVING ROOM – LATER**

The evening has calmed, some people having left, the rest sat around chatting. EVA is either tired or drunk, leaning against NOORA.

 

**EVA (VO):**

Hook-ups are easier, and the ready availability of them makes the choice particularly easy. Long term relationships take perseverance, and my age group just doesn't have what it takes to stick it out.

 

NOORA brushes EVA’S hair from her face and kisses her forehead, lipstick leaving a light smudge of colour.

  


**EXT. – A STREET – LATE NIGHT**

 

**EVA (VO):**

The age at which teenagers in Norway first have sex has been relatively stable over the last twenty years. (It's about sixteen and a half, by the way.)

 

EVA and NOORA make their way home, arm in arm. EVA is a little overly amorous, pulling NOORA in for kisses in the middle of the sidewalk or up against buildings every few minutes.

 

**EVA (VO, Cont’d):**

So let me let you in on a little secret - it does happen. Kids have sex sober all the time.

  


**EXT. – TRAMSTOP – NOON**

NOORA is going through a series of tense texts between herself and her mother, frown on her face. EVA walks up to her and kisses her on the cheek, takes her hand in hers. NOORA smiles.

 

**EVA (VO):**

I'm going to let you in on another secret: A lot of kids these days _don't_ know what love is, or how to go about having a stable relationship.

 

They get on the tram.

 

**EVA (VO, Cont’d):**

Myself included.

  


**EXT. – NOORA'S PARENTS' HOUSE – NOON**

NOORA and EVA stand in front of a neat, modern house – NOORA’S PARENTS’ house. They're holding each other's hands, and EVA seems to wait for NOORA to make the first move. Finally, NOORA does.

  


**INT. – NOORA'S PARENTS' HOUSE – NOON**

NOORA’S MOTHER welcomes them both into the house, hugging NOORA and shaking EVA’S hand. The girls take off their coats and then follow NOORA’S MOTHER further into the house where she has lunch set up. NOORA’S FATHER is already sat at the table. He is a stern-looking man. NOORA’S MOTHER’S affection is polite, but seems like a genuine effort. Her FATHER is almost impossible to get a read on.

 

**EVA (VO):**

How are we supposed to learn love from people who tell us it only comes in one form?

 

The girls sit down at the table and NOORA’S MOTHER goes to fetch the food. EVA volunteers to help, trying to impress. NOORA and her FATHER don't speak, looking at each other in silence. NOORA is clearly uncomfortable under the scrutiny, but offers a small smile, trying to break the ice. Her father doesn't visibly react.

 

**EVA (VO, Cont’d):**

How are we supposed to learn conflict resolution from people who let silence fester between them until the only solution left is for one of them to leave, just because they made a promise to stay together till death do them part, and this is the next best thing?

 

EVA and NOORA’S MOTHER come back with the food. NOORA’S MOTHER dishes out generous portions, making a comment about how NOORA is too thin. NOORA’S smile is thin, and EVA reaches over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze while NOORA’S MOTHER turns away to serve her FATHER’S food.

 

**EVA (VO, Cont’d):**

To love means to decide you want to be with someone every day you are with them

 

EVERYONE starts to eat, stilted but polite conversation breaking up the meal occasionally, until NOORA’S FATHER says something and the whole table falls silent.

 

**EVA (VO, Cont’d):**

It means to be willing to keep getting to know them and to keep letting them know you.

 

NOORA’S MOTHER tries to say something to first NOORA’S FATHER, and then to NOORA. NOORA doesn't seem to pay her any attention, staring at her FATHER across the table. NOORA and her FATHER exchange some tense words. NOORA puts down her cutlery and gets up from the table, briefly thanking her MOTHER for the food and then leaves the room. EVA hurries after her.

 

**EVA (VO, Cont’d):**

It means you are willing to share your life with them.

  


**INT. – A COFFEESHOP – AFTERNOON**

EVA and NOORA are sitting next to each other at a table towards the back of a kaffeebrenneriet, bent over one or the other's phone, giggling at a video of some animals being adorable. There are a few empty cups on the table before them. They've been here a while.

 

**EVA (VO):**

The idea that you promise to love once, and then love just follows is a fallacy.

  


**INT. – A CLASSROOM – MORNING**

EVA walks into the classroom and looks around, looking for someone. When she spots NOORA, she takes a fortifying breath and then walks over to her. Just as she's about to reach her, a BOY shoulders her out of the way and sits down next to NOORA, smiling at her brightly. EVA deflates, and sits down where she is, some empty seats next to her.

 

**EVA (VO):**

If commitment is to be made once, between two people who know themselves and each other, and then kept for the rest of their lives, those two people must stay the exact same people in order to remain compatible.

 

NOORA is not impressed. She gets up from her seat, and comes over to sit down next to EVA. EVA is surprised, but when NOORA smiles at her, she smiles back. They shake hands and introduce themselves.

**EVA (VO, Cont’d):**

Love takes work. Commitment takes work.

  
  
  


**INT. – A PARTY – LATE EVENING/ARTIFICIAL LIGHTS MAKE TIME IRRELEVANT**

EVA squeezes her way through the crowd, drink in hand, not particularly happy to be at this party. She used to love them, but she's gotten a bit sick of them. She bumps into NOORA, apologising, and then continues on to a GROUP OF BOYS who are all chatting excitedly amongst themselves. They don't pay her much attention, but ONE of them throws an arm over her shoulders, holding her close. EVA takes a drink.

 

**EVA (VO):**

Maybe one day we will find a way to love one another without demanding we stop growing as people, without believing that once we've made our choice of a partner we need to do everything in our power to keep this one relationship going.

 

EVA looks out over the crowd, where everybody seems to be having a perfectly lovely time. EVA spots NOORA, talking to some other people. EVA watches her for a while and eventually NOORA looks up and over, meeting EVA’S gaze. NOORA smiles. EVA smiles back. The BOY under whose arm EVA stands pulls her in for a kiss, taking her attention away.

 

**EVA (VO, Cont’d):**

I won't hold my breath.

 

 

**FIN**

 

 

****


	6. Even - spring 2020

**SPRING 2020**

 

*******

 

Even stares down at the printed pages of his screenplay, leaning his forehead on the palm of his hand while he taps the pages with a highlighter pen in the other hand.

There's something wrong with it. The screenplay, not the pen.

He has another hour left before he starts his shift and he can't figure out what's bothering him exactly. To call the experience “frustrating” would be putting it mildly. Especially because he was so excited when he started it.

It's coherent, and it's not bad as such, but. There's something wrong with it. It's boring, for one. And Even doesn't really like it, for another. He's almost tempted to throw the whole thing out, but he doesn't really have the time. He needs to start shooting soon if he wants to actually manage to edit and score the whole thing before the deadline. Between classes and his shifts at Kaffebrenneriet, it's not like Even has infinite amounts of free time.

And yet, he doesn't really want to shoot this at all, because even though Even can't quite figure out what is wrong with the screenplay – or how to fix it, at that – there's something very obviously not right about it. It's a sweet love story between two boys, the kind of thing Even always wanted to make, if he's being honest, and yet---

 

**INT. – A PARTY – LATE EVENING/ARTIFICIAL LIGHTS MAKE TIME IRRELEVANT**

**MATHIAS (VO):**

What is love? Not something me or my generation know a whole lot about.

 

MATHIAS squeezes his way through the crowd, not particularly happy to be at this party. He used to love them, but he's gotten a bit sick of them. In the kitchen he grabs himself another drink.

**  
** **MATHIAS (VO, Cont’d):**

Today's hook-up culture has created an atmosphere where people float from one fling to the next like a bee sampling flowers while never actually stopping to smell the roses.   
  


He makes his way back through the crowd, past a few couples making out more or less enthusiastically, to a GROUP OF BOYS who are all chatting excitedly amongst themselves. He greets them amiably and the LONE GIRL standing with them slips under his arm, angling her head for a kiss. MATHIAS takes a drink instead.

 

Even sighs deeply and grabs his cup of coffee to take a sip. Fuck, the more he looks at it the more he hates it. How can his own thoughts be this boring?! He's a disappointment and a disgrace to film makers everywhere, and especially to himself.

“Excuse me?” someone pipes up, and Even lifts his heavy head, not sure if he should be grateful for the distraction or not.

Either way, he finds himself faced with two girls.

One of them has copper red hair down just below her clavicles, a soft green snapback cap backwards on her head, and a bright smile on her lips, while the platinum blond next to her wears lipstick in such a deep red it makes the rise of her eyebrow look judgemental even though she hasn't said anything. He thinks. He's somehow pretty sure it wasn't her who addressed him.

“Are you Even?” the redhead asks, and, yep. Point for Even. Platinum blonde hasn't said a word.

“Uh, yeah,” Even says, straightening up a little, because he probably looks a bit odd, slumped over in his creative funk. “Depends on which Even you're looking for, I guess.”

“Elias' friend Even?” she clarifies.

“Elias Bakkoush?” he asks in return.

The redhead relaxes minutely and her smile brightens.

“Yeah! We're friends of Sana's!” she says. “I'm Eva.”

“Noora,” the blonde adds.

Even smiles back, because Eva's smile is contagious and he's decided he's glad for the distraction. And curious, because he has absolutely no idea what they want from him.

“Hi,” he says. “Sorry, but-- is there something I can do for you?”

“Yes, right,” Eva says. “So, Sana said you're a film student and you need a queer couple for a short film you're shooting?”

Even's eyes flit back and forth between them –  _ oh _ – and then back down to his printed out screen play (outline). He wrote boys, because Isak is a boy and he's a boy and not that he wrote about Isak or himself or anything, he just wrote what he knew and didn't really give it any kind of thought if he's being completely honest, but. He can change that. He really would prefer an actual couple to two people pretending to be a couple, because if he can't count on acting ability then he can at least count on genuine chemistry, and he hasn't found anyone yet, so if they're offering…

“You want to do it?” he asks, just to be sure.

Eva grins brightly.

“Yeah! Sana said you're nice, and it'd be a cool thing to be involved in, we thought.”

Even smiles proudly.

“Sana said I'm nice?”

Noora snorts with amusement, and Eva's grin turns into actual laughter.

“Yes, you got the Sana Bakkoush stamp of approval.”

Even nods slowly.

“That's hard to come by.”

“Yeah, so we thought you're probably not actually just looking to shoot some low-quality porn of two girls making out,” Eva says with a teasing twinkle in her eye.

Noora on the other hand has gone back to looking like she hasn't ruled that possibility out entirely yet and has a contingency plan. She's tiny, but she has that same sort of fierce energy Even knows from Sana. He can see how they'd get on.

“I wrote boys, actually, if that helps,” he says.

Noora raises her delicate eyebrow again and then shrugs.

“You can shoot low-quality porn of boys making out too,” she says.

Even grants that with a slow nod of his head.

“I'm not looking to shoot low-quality porn,” he says. “Or any kind of porn. It's about, um, love. And, like, the expectations and stereotypes around it.”

Noora regards him coolly. Eva smiles again.

“Sounds cool! So, like, do you want boys, cause we could ask some friends--?”

“No, actually--” Even interrupts and then bites his lip briefly. “I actually think it'd be better if it's girls. If you'd really want to do it?”

“We want to read your screenplay first,” Noora says.

Even nods again.

“Sure, yeah,” he says. “I've got a few revisions to make, but give me your email and I should get it to you by tomorrow, probably.”

“Great!” Eva grins, and grabs one of his pages, flipping it over and scribbling down her email address – and her phone number, apparently – with his pen. When she straightens back up, she gives her hair a flip back over her shoulder that makes Even want to capture it on film. He hopes she can do that on command.

“Well, then. I'll email you the script so you can tell me if you definitely want to do it,” Even says. “There probably won't be much actual dialogue, because I'm dubbing over most parts of it with a voice over anyway.”

Eva shrugs.

“You're the boss,” she says and then considers him for a moment before holding out her hand.

Even smiles and reaches out to shake it.

“See you around, Even,” Eva says.

“Yeah, see you,” Even says, and then nods at Noora in greeting.

He watches them walk away, Eva slipping a casual arm through Noora's and pulling her in a little to say something he can't make out. He can hear Noora laugh in response though, and feels a smile pulling at his own cheeks at the sound. They look good together.

Girls aren't exactly the opposite of what he'd imagined, because that's not how gender works, but he can probably just flip most of the scenes he's written and get away with it. Tweak a moment here and there. And Mikael did have a point about not always just going with his first instinct, so if he ---

Wait.

_ Opposite. _

That's what he started with, isn't it? Looking for something that's the opposite of Even's Love-Above-All-Else world view, and even if Isak's text isn't exactly that, taken out of context there are definitely some phrases that are at least along the lines of “kids these days wouldn't know love if it punched them in the face”. (Which is a ridiculous and unfair sentiment in and of itself.) So what if Even gets rid of all the dialogue and dubs over only those lines? Have the images and the text oppose each other.

It's not the most revolutionary idea ever, but it's not something Even's done before and damn it, maybe it doesn't have to be the most revolutionary idea ever to be interesting. At least a little. At least more than “boy is unhappy with girl/himself, meets boy, is happy with boy/himself”. If there is any kind of queer story there is enough of, then it's probably that one.

So Even spends the last 50 minutes before the start of his shift ctrl+f replacing names and changing pronouns, tweaking and re-ordering scenes and voice overs. By the time he puts away his things and ties on his apron, he's feeling pretty good about the whole project again and not even the businessman who comes in every week and acts like the singular minute he has to wait for his espresso is too long can sour his mood. When he closes up at the end of his shift he takes a large latte with him and sips it all the way home, idly listening to music and scrolling through his phone on the tram. Those thirty minutes it takes to get home are practically sacred to Even. After a full day – especially one that's not technically over – he relishes the time to unwind and not do anything in particular at all.

“I'm making dinner!” Mikael yells from the kitchen when Even steps into the flat they share.

Even smiles to himself and sets his coffee down so he can unlace his boots.

“I love you!” he yells back, grin widening when he hears Mikael laugh in response.

Putting his coat on the rack on the back of the door, Even thinks that sixteen-year-old Even wanted twenty-three-year-old Even to be in a completely different place in his life, but twenty-three-year-old Even frankly thinks that sixteen-year-old Even was a bit of a dickhead, and he's actually quite happy with where he is.

“I think I found a couple to do the short film with me,” he says when he turns into the small kitchen, backpack slung over one shoulder, cup of coffee back in hand.

Mikael looks over his shoulder for a moment before turning back to the pan in front of him.

“Congrats,” he says. “Why 'think'?”

“Well, they want to read the script before they agree, and they might hate it.”

Even leans in to look over Mikael's shoulder, mouth watering at the colourful mix of vegetables he's stir-frying.

“Sana sent them my way actually,” he adds and puts his chin down on Mikael's shoulder. “Looks delicious.”

He can see Mikael grin at the compliment out of the corner of his eye and smiles at it a little himself. It's always fascinated him somewhat, the way feelings seem to be a sort of social feedback loop. If someone laughs, then someone else will also laugh and then that has the potential to make the first person laugh even more and so on and so on. It works for sadness too, of course, and for panic, and anger, and a hundred things that aren't as wonderful as love, but it's part of why Even wants to put love stories out into the world. To get that reaction. Maybe, if you put enough love out for people to see then they will carry it with them to other people, cheesy and pretentious as that is.

“Sana?” Mikael asks curiously.

“Yeah, I didn't even know Sana knew about it, but they said she told them I needed a queer couple for a short film and that the Sana approval means I'm probably not a gross dude trying to shoot dubious porn.”

Mikael snorts a laugh that shakes Even off his shoulder, so he straightens his back and takes a step away from Mikael, turning around so he can lean against the counter by his side, letting his backpack slide to the ground and draining the last of his coffee before setting the to-go cup down as well.

“You do tend to star in the porn you shoot,” Mikael teases.

Even sighs exaggeratedly and lightly taps his foot against the side of Mikael's knee.

“You make one sex tape and suddenly you're the porn guy, I see how it is.”

Mikael laughs and looks over at him briefly to waggle his eyebrows for effect before he returns to staring down at the pan.

“Wait, didn't you say you'd hang out at KB? How did they even know who you were?”

Huh.

“I assume Sana showed them a picture,” Even says with a shrug. “I don't think they stalked me thoroughly enough to make the Sana thing up.”

Still, Even pulls his phone out of his back pocket and scrolls through his message threads to get to the one with Sana. The last time he's texted her was a good while back, but while they get along fine he's not exactly close friends with his friend's little sister. The last conversation they had was about Yousef looking a little under the weather three weeks ago but denying it to everyone. He'd caught a nasty case of angina at the kindergarten, and Sana had spent a good while lecturing on how illness wasn't going to go away just because he ignored it.

  
  


**Sana**

Hey, I met two of your friends today, Eva and Noora. They're lovely!

  
  


The bubble that lets him know Sana is typing up a response pops up immediately, so Even watches and waits, the sizzling of the vegetables and the warmth of the stove weaving a comforting atmosphere of home and draining the last of the tension from his shoulders.

  
  


**Sana**

Be nice to them!

Who do you take me for?

A dumb boy. Like all of you. Don't forget I know you're friends with my brother, who is definitely a dumb boy.

  
  


Even snorts to himself and turns the phone to show her response to Mikael, who bursts into a delighted laugh.

“Classic Sana,” he grins.

“A menace, that girl,” Even says, but even he can hear the fondness in it. He doesn't have any siblings himself, but out of his friends' siblings he's particularly fond of Sana. There's just something about this tiny girl who can smile like sunshine and cut like lightning that he finds endearing. Maybe it's just that he's always seen most of her, since most of their time was spent at Elias' for some unspoken reason.

  
  


**Sana**

Fair, but I already know you told them you think I'm nice!

Don't prove me wrong!

  
  


Even sends back a final thumbs up and then slips his phone back into his pocket, looking back over at the food.

“Are you going to take much longer?”

“Um, excuse you--”

“I'm not-- I just meant because if you are, then I'm going to go send off the screenplay in the meantime.”

“A bit longer I think, yeah,” Mikael says. “I'll let you know when I'm done, okay?”

“Thanks, babe, you're the best,” Even teases, and darts in to press a quick kiss to Mikael's cheek.

Mikael grumbles and makes a show of wiping it off, but Even sees him grinning clear as day, so he grins to himself as well as he grabs his backpack, tosses the coffee cup out, and leaves the kitchen to make a beeline for his own bedroom.

To combat the writer's block – or at least channel the frustration into something useful – he cleaned his entire room the day before, and now when he steps back into it he can't help but feel that twinge of 'I really should do that more often' that he always does when he finally gets around to straightening out the chaos he creates around him as easily as breathing. He doesn't even do it on purpose, but he swears if he only means to grab one notebook and a pencil case from his drawers he somehow ends up with a million things littered over his desk and the floor and every other available surface. It's a curse.

He'd brought the loft bed from his parents' place for space-saving reasons when he moved out, and he can't say he's regretted the decision. The ceilings are high enough that he can almost stand up on the bed, and he only has to hunch over a little underneath it as well. It makes for good storage space though, and honestly Even revels in how it makes the room feel bigger than it is, because it looks less cluttered this way.

But, longing looks at his bed aside, he makes his way over to his desk by the large window and gets his laptop out of his backpack. He scans the screenplay over quickly for anything that jumps out as especially egregious, and then fires it off to Eva.

  
  


> _ Hi Eva! _
> 
> _ Here's my screenplay as promised. I named the characters from the way I'd want to cast you (from the short meeting we had earlier), but I can totally change both the names and the casting if you're uncomfortable with it. If you have any other notes, don't hesitate to let me know. I hope this can confirm that I'm not trying to shoot porn; I'd be super happy to have you on board! ;) _
> 
> _ Have a nice evening, _
> 
> _ Even _

  
  


Even closes the tab after he's sent the email off and checks one or two film blogs he occasionally reads until Mikael yells for him to come have dinner. They have it at the tiny table in their kitchen that folds against the wall, sharing stories of their day in between bites, before Mikael suggests they have a movie night, since neither of them have anything incredibly pressing to get done and hand in this week. It's the kind of night in that made sixteen-year-old Even want to live with his best friend, and even if twenty-three-year-old Even doesn't get as drunk as teenage him would have thought or wanted, it's a pretty good night. He falls asleep with a smile.

When he wakes up, there's a reply from Eva waiting for him in his email inbox, time-stamped at 1:07. Even grins to himself at it, somehow glad that Eva and Noora – or at least Eva – don't seem to have all of their shit together in a way that means they go to bed every night before eleven either.

  
  


> _ Dear Even, _
> 
> _ Noora and I read your screenplay, and we really like it! We're totally down to do it, if you haven't changed your mind. Feel free to text or call as well, if that's easier. _
> 
> _ Eva _

  
  


Considering that Even was ready to curse this week to hell when it started with him in the creative dumps, it's taken a surprising turn for the amazing now. He's just about to shout for Mikael when he remembers that he has an eight AM lecture today and that Even's alarm doesn't even go off until eight, so there's no use to it. Instead, he climbs down the ladder of his loft bed, phone in hand, and then goes through his backpack in search for the page that has Eva's number on it. He should have probably saved that to his phone right away.

Once he finds it, he does save it to his phone and then opts to go to the bathroom to have a piss before he texts Eva. Who knows, she might be the kind of person who calls back when she receives a text, and Even doesn't really feel like making excuses as to why he couldn't pick up five seconds after texting her, or picking up while pissing. They're not there yet. But nature calls, needs must and so on, so Even puts down his phone.

He brushes his teeth afterwards while he's at it, running a brush through his hair a few times to work out the tangles. He should probably get a trim again soon. It's getting a bit too long again, and he likes styling it up and out of the way.

On his way back to his bedroom he picks up a bowl of cereal from the kitchen and has the first spoonfuls while he's still walking. Living far from his mother's watchful eyes does have its benefits. Back in his room he sits down heavily at his desk and then grabs his phone to shoot Eva that text.

  
  


**Eva**

Hi Eva, this is Even. I'm really glad to hear you and Noora are on board! I'm going to scout locations this week and hopefully I'll be able to cobble together a schedule for when we can start shooting soon. What are your and Noora's schedules like?

  
  


Eva doesn't reply immediately, so Even puts the phone back down and stares out of the window while he finishes his bowl of popped cocoa-wheat, soaking in the way the sunlight filters through the large tree in the backyard. They're going into spring now and there hasn't been any snow in a week or two. It makes Even long for warmth to come back, for green to start blooming out of the ground and the trees. There's only so much of the barenaked winter landscape Even can take.

He doesn't have to go into work until after noon, so he gets his script out once he's finished his cereal and gets to planning.

They can shoot the domestic at-home-stuff here, or if Noora or Eva have a place, then maybe they can shoot it there. He doesn't think their kitchen gives off a particularly masculine vibe, or any kind of vibe for that matter, but he can always dress it a bit. He can probably persuade Inga to let him shoot at KB, if he does it in the back and quickly. It's only a small scene, so it shouldn't take too long to get all the material he needs, especially since he doesn't need to worry about sound. As for the classroom, well. Surely he'll find a professor and a few students to help him out with that.

The toughest thing to find will probably be Noora's parents' house. His own parents live in a flat, as do all his friends'. He can always adapt to that if he has to, but there's an image of the two of them in front of a modern, slightly too-clean-to-be-warm looking house he has in mind that he doesn't want to miss if he doesn't have to. Maybe he'll just find a house and ring the doorbell. Fortune favours the bold after all, or so he's been told. The outside stuff he'll plan around that, as he can basically do that when- and whereever.

The bigger problem will be trying to find the time. Sunday is his only day off, so to speak, so that'll be when they'll have to get most of the stuff done, but for the KB and the classroom scenes it'll have to be a day when other people are around. Well. No one ever said this whole business was going to be easy, did they? Even's used to not getting much downtime when he's in the middle of a project.

He fires a text off to his parents, asking if it's alright if he commandeers their flat for a Sunday or two – he can shoot the party scene there at least, and he'll need to rally the troops and then some to get a respectable amount of extras – and just as he puts his phone back down, it beeps with a message.

  
  


**Eva**

Hi Even! Noora and I are pretty busy during the week, but our weekends are free! Thursday afternoons can work too, in a pinch. Noora lives in a kollektiv, and I live in my mamma's house, if that's any help with the locations!

  
  


Perfect. He's got three hours on Thursday afternoon that he usually tries to use for studying – and actually stares out of whatever window to people-watch – so if they have overlap there then maybe they can get the class and KB things done then. And if Eva and Noora are willing to offer up their own homes for filming that's even better. People just move differently in places they're already comfortable in, and Even wants as much of that as possible. He wants them to be as idyllic as he can get them.

  
  


**Eva**

If I could come have a look tomorrow, then that would be perfect!

Yeah, no problem! Does 11 work for you? I'll probably be at Noora's, so we can meet there and then go over to mine.

Yeah, that works. See you tomorrow then!

  
  


Eva replies with a smiley and an address, so Even shoots her a thumbs-up to let her know he got it, and then puts his phone away again. He spends the rest of his time before he needs to leave for work recording and timing the voiceover so he can get a better idea of how much material he needs to shoot. He gets a bit lost in sketching out storyboard ideas and sprints more than walks to catch the tram so as not to be late for work, but really it's all par for the course.

  
  


Sunday morning dawns bright and full of sunshine, which is one of the only things that makes keeping the kind of strict sleep schedule Even keeps bearable, if you ask him. No one should have to be awake at eight on a Sunday, but routine is important to make Even's brain behave and for some godforsaken reason, the regular sleep has really helped with that. But just because Even's been doing it for years now doesn't mean he likes it. He'd still much rather sleep in until ten, though he has to admit that making himself breakfast and then going back to bed to watch an episode of something or other, or a film he's been meaning to see is nice as well. Sunday mornings are Even's me-time.

This particular Sunday sees Even settle in for an episode of an anime Mikael's been talking about for weeks now. It doesn't do as much for Even as it evidently does for Mikael, but he's entertained enough to watch a second episode after the first. Mikael stumbles out of his bedroom with bleary, tired eyes when Even goes to have a shower afterwards, and by the time Even's on his way out, Mikael's only migrated to sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hand, steaming mug of coffee before him.

“Late night?” Even asks, lips quirked in amusement.

Mikael sighs deeply.

“Not that late,” he says. “Just… mornings.”

Even grins and ruffles his hair affectionately.

“Yeah, I know,” he says.

“Where are you off to?” Mikael asks, frowning at Even dressed in actual clothes, instead of the universal staying-at-home-uniform of joggers and sweatshirts.

“I'm meeting Eva and Noora to see if I can film at their places,” Even says.

Mikael nods slowly, frowning a little like he's trying to remember if Even has told him that before. (He has).

“Are you going to be back for lunch?”

“Probably not,” Even says. “I'm meeting them at eleven, and I don't know how long it'll take.”

Mikael nods again.

“Alright. See you later, then.”

“Try not to drown in your coffee,” Even teases, and backs out of the kitchen to Mikael's indistinct tired grumbling.

Noora's kollektiv is more or less around the corner from Even's campus, so the tram ride passes in blurry familiarity. It had been odd, at first, when he started at Westerdals to daily find himself back in the area where he'd gone to school as well, after not having had reason to for a while. It's not that Even only has bad memories of Bakka, but he definitely doesn't only have good ones either. In a way he's maybe glad that Vulkan is the first thing he thinks of these days when he hops off the 11, even if it's not quite at his usual stop.

The doorbell to Tryggvason, Hansen, and Sætre has a little rainbow sticker next to it, and Even smiles to himself as he presses the button to ring the bell.

“Hello?” the slightly tinny intercom voice of a boy/man asks, stretching the word jovially.

“Hi, I'm here to see Noora and Eva,” Even says. “It's Even.”

“You're the film guy?”

“Yeah, that's me,” Even says. 'The film guy'. He can live with that. He's actively aspiring to that. He grins.

“Come on up! We're on the second floor,” the guy says, and then the door buzzes open.

Even pushes inside and unzips his jacket as he climbs the stairs, withstanding the temptation to run a hand through his hair. Years of wearing his hair up should have broken him of that nervous habit, probably, but in reality it just means that his hairstyle usually ends up looking messier than he originally intended.

He's greeted at the door by a guy with short reddish-blond hair, a curious tilt to his head as he looks Even over.

“Eskild,” he says, holding out a hand for Even to shake, a mug of coffee in his other hand.

Even takes his hand with a smile.

“Even.”

“Well, you'd better come inside,” Eskild says, and steps aside to let Even in.

Even hasn't yet undone his shoelaces when Noora appears in the hall, light jeans and a white shirt, blond hair in a messy ponytail, frown making her face look more severe than Even remembers it.

“Don't scare him off,” she says to Eskild, and then turns to Even, features smoothing out into a polite smile.

“Hello, Even.”

Eskild throws his free hand up in a gesture of exasperation.

“You've been hanging around our Baby Gay too much,” he complains to Noora, moving past her. “You used to be a lot more fun.”

He pulls Noora into a brief hug though, and Noora smiles at him, so Even's pretty sure this is all more practiced banter than any real kind of squabble.

“Anyway, he's not my type,” Eskild says, before quickly looking over at Even with a wide smile. “No offence, handsome.”

Even laughs and finally shrugs out of his jacket.

“None taken.”

“Now, as for--” Eskild starts, but Noora rolls her eyes and interrupts him.

“Yes, yes, I already told Even he can shoot here if it works out for him, so you can play matchmaker later.”

Eskild huffs a breath, but holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Fine, fine, I know when I'm not wanted,” he says. “I'll leave you to it.”

With that he turns around with another lofty wave of his hand and vanishes further into the flat.

“Sorry about that,” Noora says.

Even shrugs it off.

“It's fine,” he says.

“Would you like some coffee or something?” Noora offers and leads him into what turns out to be the kitchen.

“No, I'm good, thanks,” Even says.

Eva's sat at the table in the kitchen, used plates and cutlery from breakfast still before her as she holds on to a cup of something.

“Hi!” she beams, and Even smiles back.

“Hi.”

“Did you find it okay?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Even says. “I go to Westerdals, and I used to go to Bakka, so I know the area quite well.”

“Ooh, we were at Nissen,” Eva volunteers, and Even can't resist a little grin.

“Well, that's almost as good,” he teases, grin growing when Eva fakes insult with a hand on her chest.

They fall into a brief silence then, and Even tries not to be too obvious in how he looks around the kitchen, tries to work out if they can use it. There's a window, which means natural light, though it doesn't seem oriented east, which is a shame.

“So, what would you want to shoot here, if at all?” Noora asks.

“Just the kitchen scene; the first one?” Even says, looking from Noora to Eva and back again. “Maybe the board game night, if you have the space? My flat's quite small.”

Noora nods.

“I'm sure that would be fine. Eskild loves having people over anyway. We could ask some friends, if you want?”

“Yeah, that'd be great. I'd bring some of mine as well, if that's alright?” Even says.

“Sure, that's fine. Just tell us how many people you need,” Noora says.

“Jonas and them would definitely be in,” Eva says. “Magnus has been ready for his close-up his entire life.”

Noora snorts her amusement.

“Magnus would need to be kept far away.”

“A friend?” Even asks.

“Sort of,” Eva says. “Friend of my ex-boyfriend, ex-boyfriend of a friend… the whole incestuous thing where everyone's slept with everyone at some point.”

Noora rolls her eyes.

“That's just you, Eva,” she says, but she says it fondly, and Eva laughs in response.

“I never slept with Magnus!”

“But you slept with Vilde,” Noora says, reaching out to tuck a strand of Eva's hair behind her ear.

Eva shrugs, her grin unrepentant.

“Vilde's a lot prettier than Magnus.”

Nora snorts half a giggle in response, and Even can feel his face twitch into a smile. In his experience kissing your friend doesn't tend to go well, but he's glad that's apparently not true for everyone.

“Anyway,” Noora says. “How about you go get dressed and I clear up here so that we can get going to yours?”

Eva nods and gets up, pressing a kiss to Noora's cheek in passing.

“Have you been together long?” Even asks, moving to help Noora clear the dishes from the table.

“Almost two years,” Noora says with a small smile. “I had a shithead of a boyfriend at school and Eva didn't really date seriously for a while, but we got it together eventually.”

“That's the important thing,” Even says, and smiles at Noora when she looks up at him.

“Yes,” she agrees with a smile of her own, and then goes back to loading the dishwasher.

“Do you ever get sun in here?” Even asks, leaning against the counter and looking around the room. It's quite big, which would make filming easier, but he's not sure if it's not a bit too big. He wants his couple to live in their own little love nest.

“Not really,” Noora says. “It's not dark when the sun's out like today, but we don't really get direct sunlight here.”

Even nods slowly.

“And your living room?”

“For sunlight, you mean?” Noora asks, a little frown on her face as she's clearing away the last of the foodstuff still on the table from breakfast.

Even grins and shakes his head, more at himself and his tendency to forget that he should probably inform other people about the jumps he's made in his thoughts before he asks them questions.

“No, space-wise. How much of a board game night could you fake-host?”

“Well, Eskild's hosted a few before actually. There's enough space for a few people,” Noora says and gestures towards the door.

Even follows her through to a room with two sofas set up perpendicular to each other, a few shelves, a coffee table. It's a good set up. Easy to shoot, probably, if they moved the TV a little.

“This would be great,” Even says. “You're sure your flatmates wouldn't mind?”

Noora nods.

“Eskild would love it, and Linn will either stay in her room if she can't be bothered to participate, or like it a lot more than she lets on.”

“Great,” Even says. “I get out of work at seven on Saturdays, but basically just give me a weekend that works for you, and I'll do the rest.”

Noora smiles, and a moment later Eva comes back to join them.

“So?” she asks.

“We're gonna be hosting a board game night,” Noora says.

Eva groans and rolls her eyes.

“Just don't let Jonas loose on the Trivial Pursuit, I can't pretend to enjoy that.”

“Ah, but you forget that we're scripted to win,” Noora says, drawing Eva in by slipping an arm around hers.

Eva smiles at Noora and lets her draw her close.

“True,” she says.

Even watches them have their little moment, quiet as a fond look passes between them. He knows he's smiling to himself and he probably looks a little odd, just stood here watching these two girls be in love. He's really going to have to thank Sana for sending them his way. He's got a good feeling about them.

Eva pecks Noora on the mouth and then pulls back out of their bubble to look over at Even.

“Shall we, then?” she asks. “We're meeting a friend for lunch after, so we should probably get going. We need to get up to Grefsen.”

“Yeah, sure,” Even says. “Lead the way.”

They all shuffle into the hall to put on shoes and jackets, Noora shouting into the flat that she's going out and shrugging when she receives no response.

“So, Even,” Eva says, fingers laced lightly with Noora's as they hit the pavement. “Tell us a little about yourself.”

“My name is Even, I'm 23 years old, I'm an Aquarius, and I like long walks on the beach,” he says with a small laugh.

Eva laughs too, and Noora smiles.

“No, that's not true. I actually prefer walking around the city. And I really like it up north, where there's fuck-all but landscape that does not look habitable,” he says.

“You like extremes?” Noora asks, curious lilt to her voice.

Even shrugs.

“Yes and no. They're thrilling, but. I like knowing I can leave too.”

Eva and Noora nod a little.

“So, if you're 23, how long have you been making films?” Eva asks.

“Depends,” Even says with a shrug. “I started back at Bakka, but I only got back into making my own two years ago. I worked on lighting and cinematography for a bit after school.”

“That's cool,” Eva says.

Even shrugs again.

“Yeah,” he says, and then turns to smile at them. “What about the two of you?”

“Are you going to use it for your characters?” Eva asks, more curious than careful.

“No, they don't need a backstory,” Even says. “It's a short. I like when it's a snapshot and you can fill in all the details yourself.”

“Are you going to credit us?” Noora asks, equally curious.

Even laughs.

“Of course I'm going to credit you! I can give your characters names for that. Or you can pick them, if you want? Otherwise I was just going to put “with: Eva and Noora”. And you last names, of course.”

Eva and Noora exchange a quick look.

“That's fine,” Eva says. “If they don't need names, they don't need names.”

The tram ride up to Grefsen passes with more easy and shallow conversation about Eva's job at a hotel reception and the latest article Noora's writing for an online newspaper. It's not that Even's shy about himself or about making friends, but he doesn't like the initial small talk of getting to know someone.

He knows people don't actually judge him as much as he fears for only having started film school a year ago, or for having had to repeat his last year of upper secondary. He knows he doesn't generally need to tell anyone about that, but it does tend to come up if people ask about his life and he doesn't carefully avoid it. And he doesn't like starting off new friendships by lies-by-omission, but at the same time he also doesn't fancy meeting people and having to tell them he has bipolar disorder and a really bad episode when he was eighteen forced him to repeat his last year of school. As comfortable as he is with casually coming out to people over and over about being pansexual – though it is a bother – it's not the same as saying “oh, yeah, my brain differs from yours in this specific way”.

So, yeah. Even likes it better when you've already decided to be friends and you don't really care about where someone's come from so much anymore.

Thankfully, Eva and Noora either don't notice his careful steering of the conversation to centre around them, or they don't mention it.

Eva's mother's house, when they reach it, looks perfect.

“Shit, this would be perfect,” Even says, stopping on the pavement outside to gauge where best to position the establishing shot. “Can I try something real quick?”

“Uh, sure?” Eva says, exchanging a small look with Noora again.

It almost makes Even smile, how in tune they seem to be with each other, but he's got other things on his mind right now.

“Okay, can you go stand side-by-side in front of the entrance?” he says, motioning over to the door between the still-bare hedges with one hand, and digging into his jacket pocket with the other to grab his phone. A swipe and a touch later he has his camera app open.

“Hold hands please,” he says, lifting the phone and casting a quick glance backwards to judge how far back he can get before he's on the street.

Eva looks over her shoulder to him curiously and Even grins to himself, watching her on the small screen of his phone.

“Eyes forward Eva. Just look at the house, I'm just going to take a quick reference photo,” he says, and then taps the release button a few times, just to be sure.

“Okay, got it, thanks,” he says and puts his phone away when he goes to join them.

“That was easy,” Eva remarks with a grin.

Noora elbows her in the side.

Even shrugs with an answering grin.

“Yeah, it's an easy shot. Just to establish the house and you and the general tone.”

“Alright, so, do you want to see the inside too?”

“Yeah, sure. It'd be great if we could film the lunch scene here,” he says, and then turns to Noora while Eva unlocks the gate. “Do your parents live in Oslo? Do you know if they'd be up for this?”

Noora wrinkles her nose a little.

“Sorry, they don't,” she says.

Even shrugs, knowing better than to pry.

“That's okay. Mine'll do it. They're used to indulging me and no one's gonna question whether you could actually be their daughter or anything. Blond, blue eyes… I think we've got enough of a vague resemblance.”

Eva laughs and lets the gate swing open.

“Someone once asked Noora and me if we're sisters,” she says.

“Because we were holding hands and shopping for groceries together,” Noora points out.

“Yikes,” Even says. “The homophobia is quite strong with some people.”

The house, when they get it inside it, is equally perfect on the inside as it is the outside. Even doesn't want to diss Eva's mother but everything is in straight lines. The wooden floors perfectly clean in a way that means there's either a cleaning service or Eva's used to keeping everything spotless. The entire interior – furniture, decorative pillows, vases, down to almost all the art pieces – is a study in greige.

“Perfect,” Even says again.

“I feel like I should be insulted by that,” Eva says with a sardonic raise of an eyebrow.

Even tries on a charming smile.

“Can I see the dining room?”

“Sure, yeah. Just take your shoes off, please.” Eva says.

The dining room turns out to be facing the garden; a glass front, sliding terrace doors, a large rectangular table with dove grey chairs around it. One of the walls is painted the same colour, an accent wall, no doubt. The good china in a cabinet with glass doors.

Even peers out into the garden to figure out the trajectory of the sun and then turns back around to Eva, beaming.

Eva snorts.

“You know, no one's ever been this pleased with how much my entire house looks like it's been lifted off the pages of a magazine.”

Even dims his smile and shrugs his shoulders.

“Sorry. I'm sure your family is lovely,” he says. “It's just… perfect. For making it look like it, well. Isn't.”

Eva laughs.

“It's fine,” she says. “It's kind of funny. Your parents playing Noora's parents in my mamma's house.”

“Well, thanks for letting me use it,” Even says.

“Yeah, no problem. I don't get much use out of it now that I don't throw wild parties anymore and basically live at Noora's,” Eva says with a shrug.

They fall into a small silence until Noora claps her hands.

“Well. If we're done, we'd better get going? We have a lunch to make.”

“Oh, hell no,” Eva says. “This time they're doing the work and we're supervising. 'Please teach us how to cook' my ass.”

Even grins along with Noora, and follows the two girls back towards the door to slip his shoes back on.

“Can you find your way back to the tram?” Eva asks as she locks up.

Even nods.

“Yeah, sure. I've got google maps if I really get lost, and if that doesn't help, I'll call you to come rescue me.”

“I'll be your knight in shining armor,” Eva promises with a laugh.

Even grins back.

“Alright, so I'll try and secure the rest of the locations and I'll get back to you to find a time when we can shoot?” he says.

“Yeah, that works.”

“Okay. I'd really love to do the scene with the parents here next weekend already, while it's still drab and almost-winter.”

“Mamma's not going to be home for another two weeks, so that would work out fine,” Eva says.

“Okay, great. I'll text you or something?”

“Great,” Eva agrees and then after a brief moment of hesitation leans in to kiss his cheeks goodbye. Noora follows to do the same, and then they take a step back.

“I think it's going to be great,” Noora says.

It takes Even by surprise, her approval, and he smiles at her.

“Thanks. Yeah, I hope so,” he says and takes a step back. “Well, have fun at lunch. Don't let those boys get away with everything, you know how terrible we are.”

Noora taps the side of her nose knowingly.

“Thanks. See you soon.”

Even nods at them a final time and then turns around, jogging to the other side of the road before he pulls out his phone to text Mikael.

  
  


**Mikael**

Done! On my way home. Have you had lunch yet?

Went to visit mamma. Will bring leftovers :3

!!! Kiss your mamma thanks from me

Gross no

idiot

Just saying. Keep your flirty ways away from my mamma!!

i d i o t

I know you Bech Næsheim!!

You going home?

Yeah, got some stuff to read for next week. See you later?

See you later ❤

❤

 


	7. Isak - summer 2021

**SUMMER 2021**

 

*******

 

“Okay, now two of the long screws here and here,” Isak says, leaning over to point at the holes drilled into the base of their new chest of drawers.

 _Their_ new chest of drawers. For _their_ flat. Where they live together.

It still makes Isak grin.

Even holds his hand out for the screwdriver and Isak hands it over, sharing a quick grin with Even when their eyes meet before he holds the separate pieces up again and Even screws them together.

“I was expecting us to do far less well with this,” Even says, flicking his eyes up to grin at Isak.

“Were you really?” Isak asks, more curious than offended.

Even shrugs.

“Yeah, you only ever hear people complain about IKEA manuals, don't you?”

Isak can't help but snort a laugh.

“IKEA is just LEGO for adults,” he says. “And I used to be the LEGO master.”

“Did you,” Even says, grinning to himself, and doesn't even bother looking up as he turns to the second screw.

Isak hums.

“I did,” he says. “And I've built a number of IKEA shelves all by myself without messing up. It's really not that hard.”

“It doesn't seem to be, I'll give you that,” Even agrees. “But I think I'll reserve final judgement for when we're done.”

He looks up with that smirk of his pulling at his lips, and Isak has to lean in to pull at them with his own. Maybe with his teeth, a little. It's been at last ten minutes since he last kissed Even, and he's not having that today of all days, when he's so full of bubbling happiness that he could burst.

Even laughs into his mouth and pulls back far too soon.

“We still need to do the bed after this,” he says. “You can distract me once there's a sheet on the mattress.”

Isak lets his grin dip all the way into suggestive and gives Even one last lingering kiss.

“I'm holding you to that,” he says, before he leans over to look at the next graphic in the manual.

“Okay, now this,” he says after a brief study of it, and twists around to pick up one of the board from behind himself and then a few screws. “And these.”

Even nods dutifully and takes the screws from him.

“I'm really happy you're here with me,” Even says, out of the blue, while he's screwing the first of the five tiny screws into place.

There's something in his voice, and in the way he chose to say it while he's not looking at Isak that makes Isak look at him harder, try to work out what that weight is he hears behind the words.

“I'm really happy I'm here too,” he says after a moment, because if he can't work it out, he can at least give Even the truth.

“I know we talked about this a lot, and that you know what you're getting into,” Even says, and Isak feels his heart squeeze tight. “But I'm still grateful that you chose me.”

“You dick,” Isak says, before he can think better of it, eyes going wide when Even lifts his own incredulous gaze to look at him.

Isak bites his lip and freezes under Even's study of his expression, until Even bursts into a laugh.

“Yeah, okay,” he says. “I see your point.”

They've talked about this to literal exhaustion. Isak has actually, once, told Even to shut up and pulled the duvet over his head, successfully lulling himself into warmth and darkness to fall asleep rather than talk through all the particular hardships he might face living with Even. It felt so insulting to Isak then, that Even kept asking him again and again whether he was really sure, but somehow, in this moment, he thinks he gets it. Choice is something he didn't feel like he had with his mother, for the longest time, and in his worst moments, Isak knows, Even fears becoming that for Isak.

“Of course I choose you, Even,” he says. “I love you.”

Even looks at him steadily, meets his gaze head-on this time, and doesn't look away as they share a smile.

“I love you too,” he says.

“Good,” Isak says with a decisive nod. “Because we just bought all this furniture, and you owe me an Oscar.”

Even laughs and salutes him, then leans over the half-finished corpus of their chest of drawers to give him a sweet kiss.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay.”


	8. Darling, It's Better Down Where It's Wetter

**Darling, It's Better Down Where It's Wetter**

by Camilla Nygård

 

[This review contains SPOILERS!!]

 

How do I best describe writer-director Even Bech Næsheim's debut feature film “ _Breathing Underwater_ ”?

“How do I best describe this film?” is, of course, a question I ask myself every time I go out to watch a movie, knowing I'm going to be paid to write about it afterwards. It's a questions I vaguely ask myself even if I'm just going for fun, because being the sort of person who gets paid to do it means you're also the sort of person your friends think has an opinion on every movie coming out. (They're not wrong.)

It doesn't start well – I get stuck in traffic and am almost late. My vain hope of catching Bech Næsheim before the screening and asking a few sneaky questions is dashed by how I'm sprinting along the pavement, trying to make it on time. I slip into the room only minutes before the movie is set to screen, but against all odds, it does afford me a glimpse of Bech Næsheim.

While I'm trying to catch my breath, so I won't pant louder than the opening might be and ruin it for everyone around me, Bech Næsheim is stood just outside the doors to the theatre, locked in tender eye contact with who a bit of googling now tells me is Isak Valtersen, his partner of four years. (Valtersen is credited with writing the essay Bech Næsheim based the very first draft of _Breathing Underwater_ on, a short called 'The Girl Who Wouldn't Hold Her Breath', from his time as a student at Westerdals Oslo School of Arts, Communication and Technology.) Valtersen, himself not a public personality, is currently writing his doctorate thesis at UiO. But when he's not doing that, he's seemingly giving his boyfriend pep talks at film festivals.

I slip into the theatre, find my seat, and prepare to pay attention, not entirely unaffected by what I've just seen. _Is it just a young director being nervous about his feature debut?_ I wonder as the lights go down. _Does Bech Næsheim have reason to worry about the reception?_

So. What did I decide to say after seeing _Breathing_?

Well, truth is, I walked out of the theatre and found myself speechless. It doesn't happen often that I'm without words – ay, shout-out to my wonderful girlfriend – but it does happen. Last Thursday, walking out of what wasn't set to be anything but just shy of 100 minutes of another indie at Oslo Fusion, was one of those times. Bech Næsheim's film is so completely enchanting that the bright light of a September evening in Oslo seemed completely incongruous after spending those 100 minutes in a darkened theatre. After spending months in _Breathing's_ world.

 _Breathing Underwater_ is bold. It's subtle. It's loud. It's quiet. It's cold, clinical, realistic. It's warm, heart-felt, dreamy. It makes you think it's one thing one minute, and then turns into something else entirely the next. And while the mish-mash of styles – has anyone blended live action and hand-drawn animation quite this lovingly before? – should seem fickle, unstable, indecisive, it doesn't. It works. In Bech Næsheim's hands, every switch in medium, in genre – like when the movie goes from being a fairytale to a psychological thriller to a coming-of-age – feels inevitable. Of _course_ Marte is just imagining it. _Of course_ Marte is imagining imagining it. And yet, I was never bored.

The two main characters, Marte (Thea Johanessen, 19) and Amalie (Karoline Moen, 18), are imprisoned fairytale princesses, in a folie à deux, and students who send each other longing looks across the classroom. _Breathing_ never tells you which of those options are true, never limits itself, even, to it just being one of them. By the end of it, you're left reeling, but settled. When Amalie offers Marte her hand and the two of them walk into the sea, you're not sure if they're going to drown, wake up, or – as the title suggests – simply breathe underwater, but you do know it's the right choice for them.

Like all indies, _Breathing_ was made on a budget, and it shows in the simple production. Shots are tight because there isn't much to see beyond Bech Næsheim's actors, but, oh, are they worth watching. Bech Næsheim has certainly managed to find a cast that turned what could have been a lesser director's downfall into a blessing.

Thea Johanessen has found recent acclaim for her role in NRK's hit-series “ _jordbær_ ”, where she doesn't have a lead role, but almost inevitably steals every scene she's in. Karoline Moen hasn't graced our screens before, but she acted in a play in a friend's short-lived company last year and is currently heading the revue at Oslo katedralskole. Both of these girls, should they pursue acting, are talents to watch out for. In _Breathing_ Bech Næsheim lets them stretch their metaphorical wings, gives them what should be unreasonably much time to do nothing but look at each other.

It's that which struck me the most. There's a scene that spends forty-eight entire seconds – yes, I went back to the second screening and timed it – on Marte and Amalie just looking at each other. There's no dialogue, no music. Just rain hitting the glass of the window out of shot, and two girls trying to find something in each others' expressions. When Marte smiles at the 48 second mark, I almost burst into tears. It's not the only scene like that, but it's the longest one.

There is, never fear, dialogue in the rest of the movie. Rather a lot of it in some places, like in That Scene where Amalie talks and talks until she runs out of breath and Marte kisses her back to life, but Bech Næsheim always leaves his words and characters room to breathe. Even at 27, with a few indie shorts that never made it past a film festival or two, and a tv miniseries (he co-wrote and directed NRK's “elefanter” with producer Julie Magnusson) under his belt, it's clear that Bech Næsheim is not only passionate about film, but the craft as well. This is a young man who knows what he's doing, and what he wants to achieve. And while I'm sure his producers must have thought he was joking with what some of his ideas probably sounded like on paper, it paid off.

Once Marte and Amalie walk into the water holding hands, the film fades into black accompanied by Espen Rønning's beautiful chamber inspired score, gently easing me back into our world. Then, two words, in what seems to be a stylised handwriting, appear; “to love”. _Cute_ , I think. Bech Næsheim clearly loves love. The entire film is an ode to it. The title shows up, _Breathing Underwater,_ big bold letters filled with the blue-grey of a restless fjord that poke at the fresh emotional bruises I'm going to show off to my girlfriend at home. And then two more words in the same stylised handwriting, “for Isak”, before the credits roll.

Valtersen claps louder than anyone else as soon as the lights come back on and shoots out of his seat to prompt everyone into a standing ovation they would have given anyway. It's not hard to see how Bech Næsheim finds the inspiration for a film dedicated _to love_ when you see the grin on Isak Valtersen's face as his partner takes to the stage to bow and accept the adoration his film has earned him.

 _Breathing Underwater_ is the can't-miss, stand-out film of this year's Fusion Festival. It is visually stunning, narratively tight, and will make you feel like anything is possible. Just try to remember that you probably can't breathe underwater after you've seen it.

 

 


	9. Even - spring 2020

**SPRING 2020**

 

*******

 

> _ Even, _
> 
> _ I think you cast two of my best friends in your film? Noora and Eva? _
> 
> _ Isak _

  
  


Even replies to the email on the tram Monday morning, after a night spent being quizzed on what he'd studied by Mikael, eating Mikael's mamma's cooking.

  
  


> _ Seriously? Wow, the world really IS tiny. How do you know them? _
> 
> _ Even _

  
  


Isak doesn't reply until some time around lunch, but that's fine, since Even read it last night but didn't reply until this morning. Still, when Even idly scrolls through his various social media apps over a sandwich between classes, he smiles when he sees Isak has written back.

  
  


> _ I've known Eva since lower secondary, met Noora at Nissen. Eva used to date my best friend! So how's the film going? It's weird to think two of my friends are in a thing that's sort of based on what I wrote. (From what they told me, I hardly recognised it, which is probably for the best.) _

  
  


Even snorts and sets the sandwich down on a paper napkin, wiping his fingers a little before he types out his own response.

  
  


> _ Did you like what you heard? I can send you the script too, if you want. It's going well so far. I'm currently trying to find locations to shoot, and working out when we can shoot as well. I always know this part is stressful but I always forget just how stressful! _

  
  


His belly's swooping with nervous butterflies a little, and he almost hopes Isak isn't waiting for a response on the other side of the connection, because he's not sure he really wants to know what Isak thought of it right now. He does, but he also doesn't. And he doesn't really care, because Isak isn't really anyone to him, but he also does, because he's not immune to criticism.

Unfortunately – or fortunately, Even's really not sure – Isak seems to have some spare time as well right now.

  
  


> _ Yeah, it sounded great! Of course I'd like to read it, if you want to share. But no pressure. Eva mentioned you might need extras for a party scene? We're there of course. I'll drag my friends if I have to. ;) _

  
  


The swooping turns from nervous to happy, a pleased smile on his lips without any conscious thought as he sends off a reply.

  
  


> _ Haha, thanks! I might take you up on that. Nice to know you're so committed to the arts…. _

  
  


> _ Nah, I'm doing this because if this is your springboard to fame, I need to have something to hold over you, so I can ask you for favours when you're rich and all. _
> 
> _ But I really like the idea! I like the backwards thing you've got going with the narrative. (That is what you're doing, right?) _

  
  


Even allows himself to curl one hand into a fist in a small gesture of victory before he takes a deservedly large bite of his sandwich and replies again.

  
  


> _ Yeah, that's what I'm doing! I'm glad you noticed haha. I was kinda worried maybe that wouldn't come through so much and then people would just end up very confused. _

  
  


Even glances up at the clock on his screen while he waits for Isak's reply, noting he's got another fifteen minutes before his next class. He did mean to read over some notes before class, and they are already on the table in front of him, so, since Isak's email isn't going to appear any faster just because Even keeps staring at his phone, he puts it down and makes himself look at his notes. Take that, procrastination.

Still. When he refreshes his inbox two minutes later to see Isak's reply sitting at the very top, it'd be rude not to send something back.

  
  


> _ Nah, don't worry. If I could pick it out, then so can people who actually know something about this stuff. ;) Can I see the finished thing when it's done? _

  
  


> _ Of course! There's an end-of-year thing where it might be shown. We're encouraged to bring people so we all get to know the nerve-wracking experience of showing our stuff to People. _

  
  


Given that Eva and Noora are friends of Isak's, he's going to assume he wants to come. From the way Eva talked about their group of friends they're all quite tight-knit, and Even thinks it'd be nice to have more than just his own group of boys there to support him. Or at least not actively boo him.

  
  


> _ Wow, look at you, showing your stuff to People…. (that sounds really wrong, btw) _

  
  


Even snorts a laugh to himself and then shrinks a little in his seat, keeping his head down. If he doesn't look, no one noticed, right? That's how object permanence works?

  
  


> _ Hahaha! It's more exhibitionism of the soul, not to worry. Your innocent eyes will be perfectly safe. _

  
  


Even doesn't receive a reply before his next class, and by the time he gets home he's completely forgotten about it. Still, when he checks his emails one last time before he's going to sleep – and, really, if it weren't such a cliché, he'd want to talk about this urge to constantly be connected that people have – there it is. An email from Isak, from only about an hour ago.

  
  


> _ Ah, sorry – life happened. I'm not going to comment on the state of my innocence, but if you want to keep up conversation, that'd probably be easier over messenger or whatsapp? Add me if you want. _

  
  


Even stares at the list of social media links Isak's provided him with, and then goes and adds him everywhere. Why not, after all. He debates sending Isak something, but he's honestly not sure what. He doesn't really have anything to say that isn't a comment of his own on the state of Isak's innocence, and he doesn't think they're quite at that level yet in their acquaintance. And what else is there to say ten minutes to midnight? “Goodnight”? They're not at that level either.

So he just locks his phone, sets it aside and closes his eyes with a deliberate, slow exhale.

Still, from the next morning on, when Isak sends him one of Even's own instagram entries with nothing but a “wtf”, they're always in contact one way or another. Sure, sometimes Even will send something in the morning and not hear back until later at night, or Even will read Isak's mid-morning message and forget to reply before he gets back home in the evening, but still. There's always some sort of contact.

Turns out Isak is funny. He's easy to talk to – text to, at least. He's clever too. And when Mikael or the boys don't respond to Even's need-for-attention-disguised-as-complaining-about-something quickly enough, Isak is usually there to indulge him instead. Even if it's just with increasingly nonsensical gifs because Isak is actually meant to be doing something else.

Even's pretty sure he's made a friend, somehow. It's nice. He hasn't made a proper new friend in a while. He has a good number of close acquaintances, people he met through work and who he meets up with for drinks every now and then, but those are not the same kind of relationship this is turning out to be. He doesn't wake up and send Ole a good-morning-meme. He doesn't send Marius a snap of a funny-looking dog he saw, just because he knows it'll make him laugh. (He has no idea if that'd make Marius laugh, actually.)

He doesn't technically have that kind of relationship with Mikael or the rest of their little group either, but that's because a) he lives with Mikael and b) their group chat is never really quiet. Someone is always up to something, and someone is always hanging out with someone else.

So Isak might be singular in Even's life, but that's fine. When his phone beeps and he sees Isak's contact name on the screen it still makes Even smile to himself, which is definitely the important part.

  
  


**Ob-isak Kenobi**

Quick question – why am I doing this to myself?

Not sure what you're doing, but presumably you thought it was a good idea

Bioinformatics is kicking my fucking ass

I never thought this was a good idea

lies

slander

you said you were going to win a Nobel and finance all of my films

no slacking

YOU said you were going to win an Oscar and finance all of my research!

Well I'M currently waiting for Eva to get back to me about this weekend actually!!!

she's free

lol are you her PA now

yah, I'm quitting bioscience sorry no Nobels

surprised and disappointed Isak

:(((

that's a very sad face

:(((((((((((((((((((

shut up you crybaby and get to work

bioinformation or whatever cannot possibly kick your ass harder than you can kick its

your pep talks need work

but thanks

you're welcome

I need that Nobel money

so selfless ❤ a true saint!

that's me

  
  


Isak doesn't reply, so Even figures he just worked out whatever was bugging him when he originally texted Even. Isak is a lot like Even in that he can get stuck in his own head. He'll think about a problem for so long he ends up manoeuvring himself into a corner he can't back out from and then he needs a quick distraction to loosen him up just enough to realise where he actually needs to be.

Even puts his phone back down with the small smile still on his face and then turns back to his homework. He is still waiting for Eva to get back to him, but it's only early afternoon. She's probably still at work, so he's not worried. And even though he doubts Isak knows all the intimate details of Eva's schedule, if she had any big plans, he'd probably know about it. Judging by how frequently she features on his instagram feed, they do seem to be rather close.

Another hour or so later he gives up and gets up to make some dinner. Mikael comes home halfway through and joins him in the kitchen, chatting away about the event he'd photographed and the 'frankly ridiculous amount of ice sculptures'.

“So,” he says over dinner later, reaching up to wipe a smear of pasta sauce from the corner of his mouth. “How's your short going?”

Even nods and chews and swallows before he speaks, because he has manners, Mikael.

“Good. I'm going to start filming this weekend, hopefully. It shouldn't take too long to get everything since I don't need any sound.”

“Cool,” Mikael says. “Are you going to need us for anything?”

“Yeah, I want to shoot a group scene this weekend – the board game scene? And then the party next weekend. Mamma and Pappa said I could have the flat on Sunday night because they're over at my aunt's for dinner.”

Mikael pokes at his pasta and nods.

“Okay. Will there be any actual partying?”

Even shrugs with a small laugh.

“Not on Sunday, I don't think. This weekend it depends on what Noora's flatmates want to do, I guess. If they just want to host an actual board game night and let me film, I'm not opposed.”

“Do you need any help with that? Filming, I mean?”

“Nah, thanks,” Even says. “I should really drop sound from all of my projects, I think.”

Mikael snorts into the water glass he just picked up and shoots Even a look.

“Your first drafts are almost always only dialogue,” he points out.

“Shhh,” Even shushes him, trying to hold back a laugh. “Don't ruin the fantasy for me, please.”

“Well, if that's what you fantasise about it's no wonder you haven't gotten laid in a while...”

“Excuse you!” Even blusters, mentally cursing himself for how he instinctively tries to remember the last time he has, in fact, gotten laid. It has been a while. A few months. Sometime last fall, probably? Not that he's about to confirm that to Mikael.

“I'm just saying,” Mikael sing-songs.

“You're really not one to talk,” Even points out.

Mikael leans back in his seat and puts a dramatic hand over his heart. Even rolls his eyes before Mikael even starts talking.

“I, sweet cheeks, make a conscious choice to not involve myself in--”

“So then why can't I make that choice?” Even cuts him off.

“Because I can hear you moaning and groaning in your room,” Mikael deadpans, making Even's entire face run hot with what is probably a very unbecoming blush.

“What? You-- no, shut up. No, you don't,” he says. There is no way Mikael wouldn't have brought this up sooner if this were true, right? They've lived here together for years, there is just--- no, there is no way.

Mikael bursts into laughter.

“You should have seen your face!”

“You're moving out today,” Even says, and ducks his head, pretending to go back to his food, when he's really just trying to tell his heart to slow the fuck back down.

Mikael just keeps laughing quietly to himself, because he knows better than that. The hazards of living with one's best friend, Even supposes.

After dinner, Even goes back to his homework, and Mikael goes to his own room for, presumably, important work things, so Even is only interrupted a little while later when Eva gets back to him.

  
  


**Eva**

board game night on Saturday is a go! How many people should we drum up?

Great! Not too many. It's supposed to be cosy, and I'll be bringing some friends too.

Okay! Are your parents free Sunday?

Yes! If all is good on your end, we can do the lunch scene then

Okay, we're free

Great! I'll talk details with my parents tomorrow and get back to you?

Yeah, that's fine! Talk to you then

  
  


Satisfied, Even puts the phone back down and then grabs his books to go study in Mikael's room.

“Saturday is on,” he says, and settles in on the bed, leaning against the wall.

Mikael makes a vague humming noise from where he's sat by his computer and keeps flicking through photos.

“Hey, if you're here, can you get me some water?” he says a moment or two later, and holds out his empty water glass with the hand he'd just been leaning his chin on.

Even huffs a pointedly loud sigh, but gets up to grab the glass and get them some water. He's feeling charitable.

  
  


By the time Even rushes out of KB on Saturday evening to help set up at Noora's kollektiv, he feels like he's only had time to blink, even though he's set up tomorrow's lunch session with his parents, the party scene for next Sunday, wheedled permission to shoot at KB out of Inga, not to mention all the usual things that need to get done.

He hops on the tram with his phone out to text Eva that he's on his way, and then back off two stops later. It always makes him feel lazy, getting the tram for less than five minutes, but he's pressed for time tonight, doesn't want Eva and Noora and her friends to have to set up without him. They're already helping him out enough as it is and he can't really offer them anything in return except providing some snacks and drinks. They've assured him that's enough, and Isak's assured him his friends should be grateful anyone thinks they're good-looking enough to be in any film whatsoever, even if it's just as extras, so Even's trying to keep a level head about it.

He's also meeting Isak tonight. In person. That's a thing. Since pretty much all of his friends are going to be there and he's actually lived in the kollektiv for a while. Isak told him he wouldn't miss it for the world.

Even's maybe a little excited about that.

It feels odd, to already know what Isak looks and sounds like from his instagram account, to be texting him pretty much every day and yet never have met him in person before. And he likes Isak, knows they get along well. So he's glad he's finally going to be able to put not just a 2D but a real, 3D face to the person he's been befriending.

Plus.

Like.

It's a pretty face, okay?

Even has seen the photos and the videos and Isak is, objectively, a good-looking guy. Subjectively too. He's got dimples, and usually-messy, slightly curly hair. His eyes are really bright and he looks good laughing. And that's not even getting into the width of his shoulders or that one video of him on Eva's account of him doing squats with either Eva or Noora on his shoulders. That… yeah.

All of Even's friends work out! It's a thing! He knows that! It shouldn't…!

But, yeah. Maybe, sometimes Even remembers this particular video and has… thoughts. Just. Musings.

Either way, he's happy to meet Isak tonight and be completely non-creepy about it. The fact that he knows that Isak is gay is irrelevant. Sexuality or dating hasn't really ever come up in their conversation except for that one time when Isak asked Even if he's making the story a queer story for 'personal reasons' and Even came out to him. So, maybe Isak has a boyfriend. It feels like something he'd have mentioned, but maybe that's just because Even would have probably mentioned it. But the point is, Even doesn't know. And he doesn't need to care either. Isak is hot, and he's nice, and funny, but that's not the point.

The point is Even has a scene to shoot, so he pushes furniture around with Eskild and positions light sources with Noora, and then does a few practice stills with just Noora, Eva, and Eskild, just to test the angles. By the time the flat starts filling up with his friends and Eva and Noora's friends, he's in go-mode, so when Eva's ex Jonas comes with two other boys and a message from Isak that he couldn't make it because of some family obligation or other, Even takes note, and moves on. Sana comes with Yousef and Elias in tow, and Mikael comes with Mutta and Adam's excuses. They're still more than enough people to fill the living room though, and Even flits between them all, supplying drinks and introductions and trying to get everyone comfortable. He needs these people to look like a group of old friends, after all.

Thankfully, no one hates each other on sight, and after Even's thanked everyone for participating and explained what he'd be doing, the evening runs smoothly. Even gets all the footage he needs and then some, smiling happily to himself as he watches a moment of Noora getting a question right in Trivial Pursuit and Eva throwing herself at her girlfriend in celebration.

It's still a Saturday night, so eventually, when Even announces he has enough footage to work with, conversation turns towards going out. Eva and Noora cite being important film stars as a reason for why they can't come with, but from the way Eva's hand is permanently stuck down the back pocket of Noora's jeans, Even's pretty sure they're just trying to get everyone else to leave the flat as soon as possible. He feels almost bad for asking them to shoot the going-home sequence with him as well, but they're both relaxed and happy, and really all he needs them to do is be flirty and kiss each other.

Eva turns out to be amazing at pretending to be drunker than she is, something that Noora drily attributes to 'copious amounts of practice'. They get a couple odd looks and exactly one cat call that all make Even wish he had something to wave around to tell people that he really, really isn't shooting low-quality porn in the middle of the street, but alas. At least no one comes over to confront them, though he's pretty sure that's mostly because of how unintimidating he looks, and how intimidating Noora looks in contrast.

It's close to midnight by the time they're done, and Noora keeps hiding small yawns behind her hand.

“Alright, alright, alright. I'm done,” Even finally says. “Thank you both so much.”

Eva waves him off.

“I didn't know this would be so much work, but it's still fun,” she says. “It's all good.”

Noora nods beside her, arm wrapped around Eva's in that way Even's seen them do so much.

“See you tomorrow then?” she says.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” he says. “Good night.”

They all kiss each others' cheeks goodbye, and then Even watches them walk back up the street to Noora's kollektiv for a moment before turning around to get back to the tram.

  
  


On Sunday his parents come to pick him up at ten, both full of energy and excitement about the day, the way they always are when he asks them to be part of something he's doing. Mamma has insisted on cooking them all an actual lunch which they are to have after filming, as a thank you to Noora and Eva, and on the drive over she and pappa ask him a lot more questions about the two of them than he can really answer.

Noora and Eva look impeccable when they open the door to them, and Noora shows mamma to the kitchen while Eva helps Even and pappa set the dining room up. It's technically still a little early for lunch, but it's overcast today which means the light won't change enough for it to be a problem. Even sends a quick prayer of thanks up to the universe for that mercy.

“So, since you haven't given us any lines,” pappa speaks up when Even is done explaining the sequence he wants to shoot in. “Does that mean we get to make up our own? Because you said you want it to look like we're actually talking and arguing.”

“Yeah,” Even says. “You can talk about whatever you want. I'm not using any the sound from these, so you can talk about penguins, if you're so inclined.”

“Well, if it's alright with the girls, I'd like to actually have the conversation we're meant to be having?” pappa says, carefully looking at Noora and Eva.

They both shrug.

“Yeah, sure.”

“I just think that would make it all easier. The expressions and such,” pappa says.

“Yeah, no, it's a good idea,” Noora says.

Pappa smiles at her.

“Alright, thank you. I apologise in advance.”

Noora smiles at him and shakes her head.

“It's just acting; it's fine.”

Pappa laughs and pats her hand in a gesture that seems to make Noora pause for a moment, before mama announces she needs to go check on the food one final time.

“Okay, I'll go shoot the outside stuff with Noora and Eva in the meantime,” Even says, and doesn't wait for an answer before he signals the girls to follow him outside.

“Your parents are very nice,” Eva says and Even thanks her with a quick smile before getting back to business.

The girls settle into being filmed as easily as though this isn't only the second day they're doing it, and Even grins to himself and spares a thought to human adaptability. Still, he's glad for it. It's a lot easier when people are at ease in front of a camera.

He has to chastise mamma into being less welcoming when they get to the part at the door, and he can hear pappa laughing about it from the other room, but tries to keep a straight face himself. There's a lot of close-ups he needs for this sequence to work, so there's a lot of calling cut, shuffling around everyone holding their mark to get his angle and starting over. It's definitely more work than last night's relaxed get-together was.

Still, Noora and pappa manage excellent awkwardness and when pappa starts very calmly talking about how he doesn't understand why Noora even brought Eva when this is clearly just a phase she's going to grow out of, he's glad he's in a wide enough shot to catch the way that Noora's face tightens in a frown. He gets two wide angles of the whole tirade, and it's only on the third take, when he's making Noora and pappa hold awkward eye contact while he cuts again and again to switch between close ups of their faces, that pappa changes his lines up, slapping his flat hand on the table in a way that makes the cutlery and Noora jump in their place. Even is going to have to buy him a bar of his favourite chocolate for doing that during one of the close-ups of Noora.

When Even calls cut for the final time, Noora and Eva having exeunt pursued by the bear of pappa's judgement, mamma and pappa share a look before glancing after them.

“Geir,” mamma says, a little disapproving. “I think you were a little harsh on them.”

Pappa looks between Even and where Noora and Eva vanished around the corner and have yet to return.

“Should we…?”

“No, I think,” Even says and bites his lip for a moment, halting. “I think just give them a minute.”

Mamma sighs.

“Well, if you say so. They're very lovely girls, both of them.”

Pappa hums his agreement, and Even smiles a little as he packs away his camera. It feels a bit inappropriate, but he's really starting to be quite hungry.

“Yeah, they're great,” he says.

When they do come back five minutes later, no one makes any mention of it, and when they sit down to actually eat, they all automatically change up the seating arrangement from how it had been during filming. Eva regales Even's parents with some stories of guests and their ludicrous demands at the hotel where she works, and it doesn't take long for Noora to fall back into the swing of it either.

Mamma leaves most of the leftovers for the girls, because she probably still feels a little guilty, and then asks if they can drop them off anywhere.

“Uh, no, it's fine. We've got some stuff to film with Even still,” Noora says and accepts the warm handshake pappa offers her.

“Well, I hope you kids have fun, and we're looking forward a lot to seeing the finished product,” he says.

“Yeah, thank you,” Noora replies, and lets mamma give her a hug.

“Alright, I'm sure Eva and Noora have other things to do today as well,” Even says, raising his eyebrows significantly at his parents.

“Yes, yes, we're going,” Mamma says, and smacks a kiss to his cheek as she leaves.

They watch them pull away for a moment, and then Even turns to Noora and Eva.

“I'm really sorry if that was too intense. I should have checked with you--”

“It's fine,” Noora says immediately, and her smile is strong enough for Even to mostly buy it.

“I got a little caught up in it, but I know your pappa didn't actually mean any of that. It's really fine.”

“Okay,” he says. “Shall we get the tram stop scene over with then?”

“Is that a way to talk about your own film?” Eva teases, and turns around to lock the door behind them.

“It is,” Even confirms, earning himself a laugh. “Some scenes are more fun than others, I'm allowed to acknowledge that.”

“Isn't that like picking a favourite among your children?” Noora asks, grinning herself and wrapping her arm back around Eva's.

“It's not like that at all,” Even insists, and lets them rib him all the way to the tram stop.

On the way back to Noora's kolletktiv, Even remembers they still need to get the string of texts with her 'mother' onto Noora's phone, and Eva suggests the two of them just text them out. So Noora saves Even's number as “mamma” and Even sends her a text about a family dinner.

  
  


**Noora**

Sweetie, your father and I haven't seen you in a good five weeks! We'd like it if you joined us for lunch next Sunday. Mother

  
  


“Do you have anything specific that you want me to text back?” Noora asks, fingers poised over her phone.

“Not really,” Even says. “Something passive-aggressive about how you're only coming if you can bring your girlfriend?”

Noora thinks for a moment and then grins to herself, thumbs flying over her screen. She reads it aloud for Even and Eva's benefit, though Eva is looking over her shoulder anyway.

“Fine, I will be there, but I'm bringing my new girlfriend, Eva,” Noora says slowly as she types.

Eva laughs and meets Noora's gaze when she looks up at her and they both say at the same time, “That's a girl's name.”

Eva bursts into a laugh loud enough to garner them some looks, and Noora looks over at Even with a raised eyebrow like she's waiting for his approval before she sends it.

“Yeah, if you don't mind that it uses Eva's name, that's fine,” he says. There's clearly an inside joke somewhere in that text that he doesn't get, but it's pretty funny anyway.

Eva shrugs.

“Nah, I don't mind,” she says, and a short while later, Even's phone dings with an incoming message.

  
  


**Noora**

Fine, I will be there, but I'm bringing my new girlfriend, Eva. That's a girl's name.

I can't tell if you're joking, but, fine. Bring your friend.

  
  


“That's uncanny,” Eva says, as she reads his reply over Noora's shoulder and then looks up to stare at him.

“What is?” he asks.

“Just-- a friend of ours sent that text to his dad once, the one that Noora sent you,” Eva explains, waving her hand about. “And his dad responded almost exactly like how you did. Only… well, a little better.”

“Ah,” Even says. “Well, I'm glad it went better for him.”

Eva nods, and they lapse into silence.

“Anything else?” Noora eventually asks.

Even frowns.

“What?”

“For the texts,” she clarifies.

“Oh! No, I think that works,” he says.

“Okay.”

They fall into silence again, and even though it's not exactly uncomfortable, it's not really comfortable either, so Even finds himself rambling on about the shots he wants to get and what sequence to best do so they can be done as quickly as possible. Noora and Eva are exhausted from earlier, he can tell. He is himself too, but he also got to do it all with his parents and then have lunch with them afterwards, while to Noora and Eva the socialising with adults they know nothing about was probably a lot less relaxing. They all seemed to have a good time at lunch, but. Still. He's sure they won't mind if he gets out of their hair soon.

There are thankfully few people at the stop, and the ones who are, are only a little amused by how the three of them are setting up shots and filming conversations that don't seem to make any sense. Noora and Eva briefly talk about a yoga class Eskild has been trying to talk them into taking with them, and Even imagines it must all seem a little ridiculous. But they get the shots Even needs quickly, and Even films them getting on the tram soon enough, somewhat indecisive about whether he should stay and wait for them to come back? It'd be rude, surely, to just leave.

But then his phone vibrates in his pocket, and when he picks it out it's a message from Eva.

  
  


**Eva**

We're going back up to my place where the leftovers are haha

See you Thursday!

  
  


Even snorts a laugh to himself and sends a quick thumbs up and a thank you, before he slips his phone back into his pocket so he can pack up the camera properly and for good, for the day. It's when he's on the tram home himself that he gets another message, though not from Eva.

  
  


**Ob-isak Kenobi**

Sorry I missed yesterday! I had a family thing to take care of.

No worries. Everything okay?

  
  


The bubble that indicates that Isak's typing pops up a few times, but a minute later, there's still no reply. Even frowns to himself a little and picks up his phone to send a message of his own.

  
  


**Ob-isak Kenobi**

You don't have to tell me anything, it's really fine!

  
  


This time, Isak replies pretty much immediately.

  
  


**Ob-isak Kenobi**

Thanks

It's just a little awkward to explain.

Basically my mamma has paranoid schizophrenia and she hasn't been doing so well recently. Didn't want to leave her alone last night.

  
  


Even's breath wooshes out of him and he bites his lip, trying to think of something to say back. Ironically, he's never been on this side of that conversation. He has, however, been on the other, so...

  
  


**Ob-isak Kenobi**

You're both okay though?

Yeah, we're fine :) having a chill sunday

hbu?

Filmed with Eva and Noora and my parents! Omw home now

Nice. How is that going?

Well! I think it'll be good

It better be, I can't have you slander my name

oh yes of course

What will the Nobel committee think when they see I only inspired sub-par art???

shit you're right gotta plan ahead

exactly

  
  


Even bites back a grin at the change in tone and continues texting pointless banter back and forth with Isak until he's made it home and Isak says he has to go. Mikael is out, it seems, so Even turns his music up without headphones and starts editing. He might as well.

  
  


The last few weeks of term pass by in a blur like they always do. Suddenly there's constantly something to do and even though you feel like each day is endless, you also look up only to realise that two weeks have passed without you noticing.

Even only shoots for two more weekends and two more Thursdays – both of which are spent with either Noora and Eva rushing to meet him at KB before his shift, or him rushing to meet them at UiO where one of Noora's professors is letting them film before class. Apparently it's a class on contemporary Nordic film and TV and the professor had been absolutely enamored with the idea of contributing something when Noora approached him. Even is thankful for it, but ends up being equally thankful for the excuse of having to get to work when he's roped into an impromptu Q&A session with the class on his work with NRK and his studies that he feels in no way, shape, or form equipped to handle.

Isak, meanwhile, seems to be drowning in genome sequences and protein modeling and programming, and that's just the class he complains about. The other ones, according to him, are hard, but not that hard. Even rather suspects that if he were forced to take any of them he'd cry himself to sleep every night. But then he also suspects Isak doesn't care nearly as much about the dolly zoom and how badly Even wants an excuse to include one at some point.

And then suddenly the term is as good as over, Even's submitted his raw cut to Jorunn and been picked for the end of year screening, and he can practically smell summer in the air.

  
  


**Ob-isak Kenobi**

would you like me to forward you the official email invite to the end-of-year screening thing or does a text suffice?

They don't come on that heavy paper with the gold borders and all?

No sorry :(

disappointed

a text will do then, I guess

or actually, no, email me, so I don't forget about the date

  
  


So Even forwards the email, and it's not long before Isak sends him another text

  
  


**Ob-isak Kenobi**

fuck that's literally the day before my bioinformatics exam

:(((

  
  


That probably means Isak isn't coming after all, and Even can't help but think that maybe that's a sign. Not that he's been looking for signs with Isak, it's just that despite being increasingly busy over the last few weeks they've also been increasingly communicating. Isak is now pretty much the first person Even wants to tell anything, and he has the sneaking suspicion that Mikael has started to notice. It's only a matter of time before the rest of the boys do and the teasing begins. God. He'd much rather there was anything for them to actually tease about, seeing as they're going to do it anyway.

Even's phone beeps again and pulls him out of his thoughts.

  
  


**Ob-isak Kenobi**

fuck it. If I don't know it the night before, I won't know it the day of.

  
  


There's a horde of butterflies exploding in his stomach that's calling him a liar for even just trying to pretend he wasn't looking for signs. Or supremely disappointed at the thought that he might not get to meet Isak yet again.

Sure, he could just ask Isak to meet up for coffee. Two bros chilling, five feet apart and all that, if he's not feeling up to taking that final plunge. But somehow he can't even make himself take that plunge. It seems highly unlikely, but what if Isak somehow doesn't really want to meet him?

  
  


**Ob-isak Kenobi**

I won't be mad if you'd rather not come, I promise!

Yeah I know you need that Nobel money. But I'll get that award anyway ;)

wow cocky much?

Fake it till you make it Even

if you say so, o wise one

I do say so and I am very wise

Don't listen to Sana if she claims differently

(that's still weird to me, btw, that we've been in each other's orbits for years now)

(it is weird. Those Bakkoushes can't be trusted.)

(hahaha I won't tell them you said that)

(appreciated)

do I need to wear anything special for this thing btw?

Just clothes

wow okay good that you said that

I was gonna wear my banana leaf skirt

wtf Even

hahaha

nah it's a casual thing

just whatever

maybe not sweatpants

I'm not a heathen, thanks

idk I've seen you on your instagram

in most of those I'm at home! Or with friends!

That doesn't count

hmmmmmm

excuse me, I'll try and up the #fashion content then

see that you do

  
  


Isak sends him a sparkly gif of a cactus shaped like someone giving someone the middle finger and Even snorts to himself and sends a heart emoji back.

Then he sighs.

He's definitely flirting.

He doesn't know if Isak's flirting, though he thinks a case could be made that he is, but he knows himself, and. Yeah. He's flirting. He likes Isak. He wants to meet Isak in real life and see if his smile is prettier than it is on instagram. It's almost bound to be, people are always prettier in real life. Well, at least Even is pretty sure Isak doesn't bother photoshopping his photos before he posts them.

So, Even has a crush.

He has a crush on Isak, and the one thing that Even could count on to connect them – his short film – is coming to an end. He's pretty sure they're good enough friends that that hasn't been what's kept them in each other's lives for a good while now, but it still feels like he's losing a security net. Like a deadline. Like if he doesn't make a move on Isak by then, then Isak will…

Will what? Dissolve into thin air? Unlikely.

If Even doesn't make a move until then, then they'll just be friends still, and Even could make a move on him the day after, or the day after that. But Even does some of his best work with a deadline looming on the horizon, so maybe it's not such a bad thing to think of it like that.

It does, at least, mean that when he isn't procrastinating his editing by dreaming about Isak, he's pretending he's not dreaming about Isak by editing. As a result, the short film's coming along marvellously on schedule. It even gives him enough time to re-record the voice over when he has last minute doubts that the sound isn't clear enough, and mess around with the music that fills the silence left between Eva’s voice overs.

When he thinks he's done, he shows it to Mikael before submitting it, and he can tell from the way Mikael grins at him that he's done well even before he says anything.

“Yeah?” Even asks. “It's good?”

“It's really good, Even,” Mikael says, grin softening into a smile that looks suspiciously like pride. “You did really well.”

“Well, good, because 70% of my grade in that course depend on it,” Even jokes, but his heart feels light, and he can feel his own grin plump up his cheeks.

“Your professor's going to love it,” Mikael promises. “And so is your boy.”

Even groans and rolls his eyes. Oh, there we go.

“He's not-- oh, fuck off.”

Mikael falls back onto Even's bed and Even puts a pillow onto his face so he doesn't have to hear him cackling quite so loudly.

Mikael's at least half right though, as Even gets a six in that class, and no one except for That One Guy whose name Even is purposely forgetting at this point, calls it a trite cliché.

As for Isak, well.

Even's been sending him a lot more heart emojis, and Isak has been replying in kind, so Even's pretty sure that if he wants to take anything as a sign, he should pick that. But Isak has also been a lot busier than Even now that the term is coming to a close, because while most of Even's classes have practical submissions or papers to be graded on, Isak has these massive three hour exams that he crams for like there's no tomorrow. Even doesn't really think that's exactly the right time to confront someone with having to make the decision of whether they want to date someone or not.

What if it puts Isak off? What if he feels guilty for turning Even down and then he has trouble concentrating? What if he's happy and then that ends up ruining his focus?

And, yeah, sure, “what if Even is just looking for excuses?”, but Even has a plan. On June 18 th after the screening is over, he's going to pull Isak aside and tell him something cheesy about how inspiring Even finds him – genuinely does find him – and then ask him to get coffee. Or see a movie. Or maybe not that, but. Something. He'll think of something.

And hopefully Isak will say yes.

If he doesn't, Even can always cut all ties with him and his friends (except Sana, he supposes) and spend the summer hiding under a rock somewhere to lick his wounds.

It's just that he really likes Isak. He really likes how Isak responds to Even's whining-for-attention with non-sensical gifs, and rambles on about DNA sequences as though Even has the faintest clue what he's talking about. And when he realises that Even doesn't, he explains it, succinctly, and without making a big deal out of it. That's maybe what Even likes best about him, his ability to take things completely chill.

So Even does his best to not overthink in the last few days leading up to the screening event.

The day-of, the first years go first, the second years are the unenviable poor sods in the middle, and the third years go last, of course. Out of the second years, Even's is the last to be shown, which is either very good, or very bad, and doesn't help with the whole chill thing he's trying to maintain. What also doesn't help is that all the students have to sit at the back, and Even has had no opportunity to do more than stare at Isak while he'd walked in with Noora, Eva, and Sana, and wish that Isak would look his way so he could at least wave.

He hadn't.

But he'd looked so good in black skinny jeans and a dress shirt in a dove grey that Even thought wildly looked much better on him than Eva’s mother's upholstery.

And then after the screenings are all done (and he's had time to recover somewhat from the way his friends had clapped and catcalled loudly as his credits had run), Jorunn holds him back and tells him that his film had come last out of the second year projects because it had been the favourite.

“It was your favourite?” Even asks, eyes probably stupidly wide.

His heart's beating somewhere in his throat, or maybe not at all, and his fingers are rapidly going icy cold.

Jorunn smiles at him.

“The department favourite,” she says, and pats him on the arm. “I want to introduce you to some friends of mine, if you have the time?”

Obviously Even has the time.

Only, over Jorunn's shoulder he sees Isak hug Eva and Noora, in congratulations presumably, and his stomach falls down to his feet. What if this takes too long and Isak leaves and Even has to build all this courage up again?!

“Just one second,” Even says, and pulls out his phone to send a very short text, trying hard not to think about how desperate it probably sounds.

  
  


**Ob-isak Kenobi**

please don't leave

  
  


“Okay,” he says, looking up at Jorunn, and putting his phone away again.

She smiles at him in something that looks a lot like satisfaction, and nods for him to follow her, weaving her way through the crowd towards the front where she claps more people on their shoulders in greeting and kisses some cheeks.

“Per, I want you to meet Even,” she finally says, a hand on Even's shoulder like she thinks he's going to run away. As if the rubber in his knees would let him. “He's the mind behind The Girl Who Wouldn't Hold Her Breath.”

“Oh!” Per says, face going from polite interest to surprise and then genuine joy. “I was going to ask you about that one! You know me too well, Jorunn.”

They have a jovial laugh while Even tries to keep his stance confident and his smile from slipping off his face. Fake it till you make it.

“Your film was wonderful, I enjoyed it a lot,” Per says. “Your camera work especially. Have you done work there outside of Westerdals?”

“Yeah,” Even says, and then clears his throat for a second, flushing when his voice breaks a little. “Yes, I've worked for NRK. Assisting on camera, mostly. A bit of lights.”

“Well, I'm doing some directing work for them over the summer, mostly up north, but I think I'd have a place for you to work with us. Mostly on camera and lights, but you could shadow me a bit too, if that's something you'd be interested in,” Per says.

Shadowing a director? Fuck yes, Even is interested.

“Like an internship?” he asks.

“A bit like that, yes,” Per says, and digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out a business card to give to Even. “Email me your information, and I'll let you know the details when they're finalised. Shouldn't be more than a week or two now, alright?”

“Yes, alright,” Even says, carefully stowing the card away in his own wallet so he won't lose it. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, I probably can't pay you very much,” Per says and laughs a little.

If Even gets paid at all, he'll be surprised, but so long as it doesn't mess too much with his job at KB, he'll take it.

“Thank you anyway,” Even repeats, trying to tamp down his grin. He's pretty sure all the industry people who actually accept the invitation to come to this are generally here for the third years – and with good reason, their films were all a couple notches better than Even could do at this point – so he can't help but feel somewhat smug that he's been made somewhat of an offer. For an unpaid assistant position, most probably, but if he'll really get to watch a director work for a while, up close, and not just from afar while he's meant to be doing something else, that'd be worth it.

“I look forward to hearing from you, Even,” Per says, and offers a handshake, before Jorunn leads him away.

Even watches them go for a moment, and catches Jorunn turn back to him and give him a discrete thumbs-up behind Per's back that has him breaking out into the beaming smile he's been fighting for the last few minutes. Holy shit, he has to find Mikael.

“Did he offer you a job?” someone asks from behind him suddenly, and Even whirls around, heart racing, only to find himself face-to-face with a startled-looking Isak.

“Sorry,” Isak says, apologetic, but with a twinkle in his eyes like he finds Even's expression at least a little amusing.

“Isak,” Even says dumbly, because for a moment there he forgot that he asked Isak to wait for him. That Isak is here at all.

Isak smiles, dimples digging into his cheeks and framing his pink lips, Cupid's bow as pretty as a picture even in real life and--- fuck. Even was right. Isak's definitely even more gorgeous in real life.

“Hi,” Isak says. “I really liked your film.”

“Did you really?” Even asks, nervous butterflies in his belly joined by a horde of joyous ones.

Isak rolls his eyes, but he's still smiling.

“No, I hated it, I'm just flattering you in case you ever win that Oscar.”

Even huffs a laugh and bites his lip when Isak grins. Isak's eyes skip down to his mouth once, only briefly, and it doesn't have to mean anything, but the butterflies in Even's stomach spread to the tips of his fingers and the back of his neck; a nervous, hot buzzing under his skin.

“Securing your research funds,” Even says. “Smart.”

Isak gives a faux-innocent shrug.

“How else would I ever win that Nobel prize?”

Even hums his acknowledgement.

“True.”

They're quiet for a bit, then, and Even notices that the auditorium around them has gone a little quieter too, most of the audience having left, with only the third years making connections left behind. Even should maybe go and find his friends. They're probably somewhere waiting for him.

But then Isak squares his shoulders and swallows, the look in his eyes flickering between cautious and determined while he looks Even's face over for-- something. Even's not quite sure what, but Isak seems to find it when he lets his lips curl in a pleasant little smile again.

“So, we found each other in a crowded room, if the Internet counts, and now I'm next to you in a classroom,” Isak says, smile growing bigger in tandem with the one Even can feel growing on his face in response. “Does that mean the next step is a coffee date?”

“It doesn't have to be coffee,” Even says.

Isak grins at him.

“I like coffee,” he says. “But I'm open to suggestions.”

That's probably a good thing, Even thinks as they're standing there grinning at each other, because he suddenly can't think of a single thing he doesn't want to do with Isak.

 

**THE END**


End file.
